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THE FAIR GOD 


OR 

THE LAST OF THE ’TZINS 


A Tale of the Conquest of Mexico 


BY 


LEW WALLACE 


“ From Mexico ... a civilization that might hrve instructed Europe 
was crushed out. ... It has been her [Spain’s] evil destiny to ruin two 
civilizations, Oriental and Occidental, and to be ruined thereby herself. 
... In America she destroyed races more civilized than herself.” — 
DaxpEB, Ini. Development qf Europe. 


THIRTY-FIRST EDITION 



BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
' HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
(Ct)« (ilibewiDe <(ramliribo^ 

1887 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, 
BY JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO., 
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington^ 


466666 

JS.4.‘3e 




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CAMBRIDGE : PRINTED AT THE RIVERSIDE PRESS. 


to Li- 


NOTE BY THE AUTHOR 


A PERSONAL experience, though ever so plainly told, 
is, generally speaking, more attractive to listeners and 
readers than fiction. A circumstance from the tongue 
or pen of one to whom it actually happened, or who 
was its hero or victim, or even its spectator, is always 
more interesting than if given second-hand. If the 
makers of history, contradistinguished from its writers, 
could teach it to us directly, one telling would suffice 
to secure our lasting remembrance. The reason is, 
that the naiTative so proceeding derives a personality 
and reality not otherwise attainable, which assist in 
making way to our imagination and the sources of our 
sympathy. 

With this theory or bit of philosophy in mind, when 
the annexed book was resolved upon, I judged best to 
assume the character of a translator, which would en- 
able me to write in the style and spirit of one who not 
merely lived at the time of the occurrences woven in 
the text, but w*as acquainted with many of the his- 
torical personages who figure therein, and was a native 


TV 


NOTE BY THE AUTHOR. 


of the beautiful valley in which the story is located 
Thinking to make the descriptions yet more real, and 
therefore more impressive, I took the liberty of attrib- 
uting the composition to a literator who, whatever may 
be thought of his works, was not himself a fiction. 
Without meaning to insinuate that The Fair God 
would have been the worse for creation by Don Fer- 
nando de Alva, the Tezcucan, I wish merely to say 
that it is not a translation. Having been so written, 
however, now that publication is at hand, change is 
impossible ; hence, nothing is omitted, — title-page, 
introductory, and conclusion are given to the reader 
exactly as they were brought to the publisher by the 
author. 

L. W. 


Boston Mass., Augusts, 1873. 


OOE'TElSrTS 


BOOK ONE. 

Chapter Pack 

1. .Our Mother has a Fortune waiting us yonder . 1 

11. Quetzal’, the Fair God 7 

III. A Challenge 13 

IV. Tenochtitlan at Night 16 

V. The Child of the Temple 20 

VI. The Cu op Quetzal’, and Mualox, the Paba . 25 

VII. The Prophecy on the Wall 30 

VIII. A Business Man in Tenochtitlan .... 39 

IX. The Questioner of the Morning . . . .46 

X. Going to the Combat 50 

XI. The Combat 59 

XII. Mualox, and his World * . 68 

XIII. The Search for Quetzal’ 74 


BOOK TWO. 


I. Who are the Strangers? 83 

II. A Tezcucan Lover 89 

III. The Banishment of Guatamozin .... 95 

IV. Guatamozin at Home 103 

V. Night at the Chalcan’s 112 

VI. The Chinampa 120 

VII. Court Gossip 126 

VIII. Guatamozin and Mualox 130 

IX. A King’s Banquet 135 

X. The ’Tzin’s Love 141 

XI. The Chant 150 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK THREE. 

I. The Fiest Combat .... 

II. The Second Combat .... 

III. The Pokteait 

IV. The Trial 

BOOK FOUR. 


I. The King gives a Trust to Hualpa . . . 192 

II. The King and the ’Tzin 198 

III. Love on the Lake 207 

IV. The King demands a Sign op Mualox . . 214 

V. The Massacre in Cholula 220 

VI. The Conqueror will come 230 

.VII. Montezuma goes to meet Cortez .... 239 

VIII. The Entry 246 


BOOK FIVE. 


I. Public Opinion 257 

II. A Message prom the Gods 261 

III. How Ills op State become Ills op Society . . 267 

IV. Ennuye in the Old Palace 275 

V. Alvarado finds the Light op the World . . 282 

VI. The Iron Cross 291 

VII. The Christians in the Toils 299 

VIII. The Iron Cross comes back to its Giver . . 306 

IX. Truly Wonderful — A Fortunate Man hath a Memory 315 

X. How THE Iron Cross came back .... 317 

XI. The Christian takes care of his own . . . 325 


BOOK SIX. 

I. The Lord Hualpa flees his Fortune . . . 839 

II. Whom the Gods destroy they first make mad . 847 


. 162 
169 
. 180 
183 


CONTENTS. 


vii 


III. The Public Opinion makes Way .... 357 

IV. The ’Tzin’s Parewell to (Quetzal’ . . . 364 

V. The Cells op Quetzal’ again ..... 374 

VI. Lost in the Old Cu 379 

VII. How THE Holy Mother helps her Children . 385 

VIII. The Paba’s Angel 392 

IX. Life in the Paba’s World 404 

X. The Angel becomes a Beadswoman . . . 410 

XI. The Public Opinion proclaims itself — Battle . 427 


BOOK SEVEN. 

I. The Heart can be wiser than the Head 

II. The Conqueror on the Causeway again 

III. La Viruela 

IV. Montezuma a Prophet. — His Prophecy 

V. How TO yield a Crown .... 

VI. In THE Leaguer 

VII. In THE Leaguer yet .... 
VHII. The Battle of the Mantas 

IX. Over the Wall, — Into the Palace 
X. The Way through the Wall 

XI. Battle in the Air 

XII. In the Interval of the Battle — Love 

XIII. The Beginning of the End . 

XIV. The King before his People again . 

XV. The Death of Montezuma 

XVI. Adieu to the Palace .... 

XVII. The Pursuit begins 

XVIII. La Noche Triste 


438 

449 

454 

455 
462 
465 
473 
481 
489 
499 
510 
524 
527 
532 
544 
550 
559 
562 


THE FAIR GOD. 


FROM THS SPANISH OP 

FERNANDO DE ALVA. 



mTEODUCTOET. 



T^ERITaNIDO DE ALVA,* a noble Tezcncan, flour- 
ished, we are told, in the beginning of the six- 
teenth century. He was a man of great learning, 
familiar with the Mexican and Spanish languages, 
and the hieroglyphics of Anahuac. Ambitious to 
rescue his race from oblivion, and inspired by love 
of learning, he collected a library, availed himself of 
his knowledge of picture-writing, became master of 
the songs and traditions, and, in the Castilian lan- 
guage, composed books of merit. 

It was scarcely possible that his labors should escape 
the researches of Mr. Prescott, who, with such incom- 
parable genius, has given the world a history of the 
Conquest of Mexico. From him we have a criticism 
upon the labors of the learned Fernando, from which 
the following paragraph is extracted. 

“ Iztlilzochitl’s writings have many of the defects 
belonging to his age. He often crowds the page with 
incidents of a trivial and sometimes improbable char- 
acter. The improbability increases with the distance 


Fernando De Alva Iztlilzochitl. 


INTRODUCTORY. 


xii 

of the period; for distance, which diminishes objects 
to the natural eye, exaggerates them to the mental. 
His chronology, as I have more than once noticed, is 
inextricably entangled. He has often lent a too will- 
ing ear to traditions and reports which would startle 
the more sceptical criticism of the present time. Yet 
there is an appearance of good faith and simplicity 
in his writings, which may convince the reader that, 
when he errs, it is from no worse cause than the 
national partiality. And surely such partiality is ex- 
cusable in the descendant of a proud line, shorn of 
its ancient splendors, which it was soothing to his 
own feehngs to revive again — though with some- 
thing more than their legitimate lustre — on the can- 
vas of history. It should also be considered that, if 
his narrative is sometimes startling, his researches 
penetrate into the mysterious depths of antiquity, 
where light and darkness meet and melt into each 
other; and where everything is still further liable to 
distortion, as seen through the misty medium of hiero- 
glyphics.” 

Besides his Relaciones and Historia Chichemeca, De 
Alva composed works of a lighter nature, though 
equally based upon history. Some 'were lost; others 
fell into the hands of persons ignorant of their value ; 
a few only were rescued and given to the press. For 
a considerable period he served as interpreter to the 
Spanish Viceroy. His duties as such were trifling; 


INTRODUCTORY. 


xiii 

he had ample time for literary pursuits; his enthu- 
siasm as a scholar permitted him no relaxation or idle- 
ness. Thus favored, it is believed he composed the 
books now for the first time given to the world. 

The MSS. were found among a heap of old de- 
spatches from the Viceroy Mendoza to the Emperor. 
It is quite probable that they became mixed with 
the State papers through accident; if, however, they 
were purposely addressed to His Majesty, it must 
have been to give him a completer idea of the Azte- 
can people and their civilization, or to lighten the 
burthens of royalty by an amusement to which, it 
is known, Charles V. was not averse. Besides, Men- 
doza, in his difficulty with the Marquess of the Valley 
(Cortes), failed not to avail himself of every means 
likely to propitiate his cause with the court, and 
especially with the Eoyal Council of the Indies. It 
is not altogether improbable, therefore, that the MSS. 
were forwarded for the entertainment of the members 
of the Council and the lordly personages of the Court, 
who not only devoured with avidity, but, as the wily 
Mendoza well knew, were vastly obliged for, every- 
thing relative to the Hew World, and particularly the 
dazzling conquest of Mexico. 

In the translation, certain liberties have been taken, 
for which, if wrong has been donej pardon is besought 
both from the public and the shade of the author. 
Thus, The Books in the original are unbroken narra- 


XIV 


INTEODUCTORY. 


lives ; but, with infinite care and trouble, they have 
all been brought out of the confusion, and arranged 
into chapters. So, there were names, some of which 
have been altogether changed; while others, for the 
sake of euphony, have been abbreviated, though with- 
out sacrificing the identity of the heroes who wore 
them so proudly. 

And thus beginneth the First Book 


THE FAIE GOD 


BOOK ONE. 


CHAPTER I. 


OUR MOTHER HAS A FORTUNE WAITING US YONDER. 

HE Spanish Calendar is simpler than the Aztecan. 



_L In fact, Christian methods, of whatever nature, are 
better than heathen. 

So, then, by the Spanish Calendar, March, 1519, had 
about half spent itself in the valley of Anahuac, which 
was as yet untrodden by gold-seeker, with cross-hilted sword 
at his side, and on his lips a Catholic oath. Hear noon of 
one of its fairest days a traveller came descending the west- 
ern slope of the Sierra de Ahualco. Since the dawn his 
path had been amongst hills and crags ; at times traversing 
bald rocks that towered to where the winds blew chill, then 
dipping into warm valleys, where were grass, flowers, and 
streamlets, and sometimes forests of cedar and fir, — laby- 
rinths in which there reigned a perpetual twilight. 

Toilsome as was the way, the traveller, young and strong, 
marched lightly. His dress, of the kind prevalent in his 
country, was provincial, and with few signs of rank. He 
had sandals of buffalo-hide, fitted for climbing rocks and 
threading pathless woods ; a sort of white tunic, covering 
his body from the neck to the knees, leaving bare the arms 


1 


A 


2 


THE FAIR GOD. 


from the shoulder ; maxtlatl and tilmatli — sash and mantle 
— of cotton, blue tinted, and void of ornament ; on the 
wrist of his left arm he wore a substantial golden bracelet, 
and in both ears jewelled pendants ; while an ebony band, 
encircling his head, kept his straight black locks in place, 
and permitted a snow-white bird’s-wing for decoration. 
There was a shield on his left arm, framed of wood, and 
covered with padded cloth, and in the left hand a javelin 
barbed with ’itzli ; at his back swung a maquahuitl, and a 
quiver filled with arrows ; an unstrung bow in his right 
hand completed his equipments, and served him in lieu 
of staff. An ocelot, trudging stealthily behind him, was 
his sole companion. 

In the course of his journey he came to a crag that sank 
bluffly down several hundred feet, commanding a fine pros- 
pect. Though the air was cold, he halted. Away to 
the northwest stretched the beautiful valley of Anahuac, 
dotted with hamlets and farm-houses, and marked with the 
silver tracery of streams. Far across the plain, he caught a 
view of the fresh waters of Lake Chaleo, and beyond that, 
blue in the distance and faintly relieved against the sky, the 
royal hiU of Chapultepec, with its palaces and cypress forests. 
In all the New World there was no scene comparable with 
that he looked upon, — none its rival for beauty, none 
where the heavens seemed so perfectly melted into earth. 
There were the most renowned cities of the Empire ; from 
that plain went the armies whose marches were all triumphs ; 
in that air hovered the gods awaiting sacrifices ; into that sky 
rose the smoke of the inextinguishable fires ; there shone 
the brightest suns, and lingered the longest summers ; and 
yonder dwelt that king — in youth a priest, then a warrior, 
now the terror of all nations — whose signet on the hand of 
a slave could fill the land with rustling of banners. 

No traveller, I ween, could look unmoved on the picture ; 


OUR MOTHER HAS A FORTUNE WAITING US YONDER. b 


ours sat down, and gazed with brimful eyes and a beating 
heart. For the first time he was beholding the matchless 
vale so overhung with loveliness and full of the monuments 
of a strange civilization. So rapt was he that he did not 
observe the ocelot come and lay its head in his lap, like a 
dog seeking caresses. “ Come, hoy ! ” he said, at last rous- 
ing himself ; “ let us on. Our Mother has a fortune wait- 
ing us yonder.” 

And they resumed the journey. Half an hour’s brisk walk 
brought them to the foot of the mountain. Suddenly they 
came upon company. 

It was on the bank of a considerable stream, which, pour- 
ing in noisy torrent over a rocky bed, appeared to rush with 
a song forward into the valley. A clump of giant oaks 
shaded a level sward. Under them a crowd of tamanes,f 
tawny, half-clad, broad-shouldered men, devoured loaves of 
cold maize bread. Near the roots of the trees their masters 
reclined comfortably on petates, or mats, without which an 
Aztec trader’s outfit was incomplete. Our traveller under- 
stood at a glance the character of the strangers j so that, as 
his road led directly to them, he went on without hesi- 
tation. As he came near, some of them sat up to observe 
him. 

“ A warrior going to the city,” said one. 

Or rather a king’s courier,” suggested another. 

“ Is not that an ocelot at his heels 1 ” asked a third. 

“ That it is. Bring me my javelin ! ” 

“ And mine ! And mine ! ” cried several of them at once, 
all springing to their feet. 

By the time the young man came up, the whole party 
stood ready to give him an armed welcome. 

♦ The goddess Cioacoatl, called Our Lady and Mother.” Sahagun, 
Hist, de Nueva Esp. 

Carrier slaves, or porters. 


4 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ I am very sorry to have disturbed you,” he said, quietly 
finding himself obliged to stop. 

“ You seem friendly enough,” answered one of the older 
men ; “ but your comrade there, — what of him ? ” 

The traveller smiled. “ See, he is muzzled.” 

The party laughed at their own fears. The old merchant, 
however, stepped forward to the young stranger. 

“ I confess you have greatly relieved me. I feared the 
brute might set on and wound somebody. Come up, and sit 
down with us.” 

The traveller was nowise disinclined, being tempted by the 
prospect of cheer from the provision-baskets lying around. 

“ Bring a mat for the warrior,” said the friendly trader. 

"Now give him bread and meat.” 

From an abundance of bread, fowl, and fruit the wayfarer 
helped himself. A running conversation was meantime 
maintained. 

“ My ocelot 1 The story is simple ; for your sakes, good 
friends, I wish it were better. I killed his mother, and took 
him when a whelp. IN'ow he does me good service hunting. 
You should see him in pursuit of an antelope ! ” 

“ Then you are not a warrior 1 ” 

“ To be a warrior,” replied the hunter, modestly, is to 
have been in many battles, and taken many captives. I 
have practised arms, and, at times, boasted of skill, — fool- 
ishly, perhaps ; yet, I confess, I never marched a day under 
the banner of the great king.” 

“ Ah I ” said the old man, quizzically, I understand you. 
jfou have served some free-trading company like our own.” 

“ You are shrewd. My father is a merchant. At times 
he has travelled with strong trains, and even attacked cities 
that have refused him admission to their market.” 

Indeed ! He must be of renown. In what province 
does he live, my son 1 ” 


OUR MOTHER HAS A FORTUNE WAITINO US YONDER. 5 


In Tihuanco.” 

“ Tepaja ! old Tepaja, of Tihuanco ! Are you son of 
his 1 ” The good man gTasped the. young one’s hand enthusi- 
astically. “ I knew him well ; many years ago w'e were as 
brothers together; we travelled and traded through many 
provinces. That was the day of the elder Montezuma, when 
the Empire was not as large as now ; when, in fact, most 
gates were closed against us, because our king was an Aztec, 
and we had to storm a town, then turn its square into a 
market for the sale of our wares. Sometimes we marched 
an army, each of us carrying a thousand slaves ; and yet our 
tasks were not always easy. I remember once, down on the 
bank of the Great Eiver, we were beaten back from a walled 
town, and succeeded only after a four days’ fight. Ah, but 
we made it win ! We led three thousand slaves back to 
Tenochtitlan, besides five hundred captives, — a present for 
the gods.” 

So the merchant talked until the hunger of his new ac- 
quaintance was appeased ; then he offered a pipe, which was 
declined. 

“ I am fond of a pipe after a good meal ; and this one has 
been worthy a king. But now I have no leisure for the 
luxury ; the city to which I am bound is too far ahead of 
me.” 

“If it is your first visit, you are right. Eail not to be 
there before the market closes. Such a sight never glad- 
dened your dreams ! ” 

“ So I have heard my father say.” 

“ 0, it never was as it will be to-night ! The roads for 
days have been thronged with visitors going up in proces- 
sions.” 

“ What is the occasion ? ” 

“ Why, to-morrow is the celebration of Quetzal’ ! Cer- 
tainly, my son, you have heard the prophecies concerning 
that god.” 


6 


THE FAIR GOD. 


In rumors only. I believe lie was to return to Anahuac.” 

'^WeU, tbf^ story is long, and you are in a hurry. We 
also are going to the city, hut will halt our slaves at Iztapa- 
rapan for the night, and cross the causeway before the sun 
to-morrow. If you care to keep us company, we will start 
at once ; on the way I will tell you a few things that may 
not be unacceptable.” 

I see,'' said the hunter, pleasantly, “ I have reason to be 
proud of my father’s good report. Certainly, I will go a dis- 
tance with you at least, and thank you for information. To 
speak frankly, I am seeking my fortune.” 

The merchant spoke to his companions, and raising a huge 
conch-shell to his mouth, blew a blast that started every 
slave to his feet. Tor a few minutes all was commotion. 
The mats were rolled up, and, with the provision-baskets, 
slung upon broad shoulders ; each tamane resumed his load 
of wares, and took his place ; those armed put themselves, 
with their masters, at the head ; and at another peal from 
the shell all set forward. The column, if such it may be 
called, was long, and not without a certain picturesqueness 
as it crossed the stream, and entered a tract covered with taU 
trees, amongst which the palm was strangely intermingled 
with the oak and the cypress. The whole valley, from the 
lake to the mountains, was irrigated, and under cultivation. 
Tull of wonder, the hunter marched beside the merchant. 


QUETZAL’, THE FAIR GOD. 


7 


CHAPTEE IL 
quetzal’, the pair god. 

T WAS speaking about Quetzal’, I believe,” said the old 
-L man, when ail were fairly on the way. “His real name 
was Quetzalcoatl. ^ He was a wonderfully kind god, who, many 
ages ago, came into the valley here, and dwelt awhile. The 
people were then rude and savage ; but he taught them agri- 
culture, and other arts, of which you will see signs as we get 
on. He changed the manners and customs ; while he stayed, 
famine was unknown ; the harvests were abundant, and 
happiness universal. Above all, he taught the princes wis- 
dom in their government. If to-day the Aztec Empire is the 
strongest in the world, it is owing to Quetzal’. Where he 
came from, or how lon g he sta yed, is not known. The peo- 
ple and their governors after a time proved ungrateful, and 
banislied him ; they also overthrew his religion, and set up 
idols again, and sacrificed men, both of which he had pro- 
hibited. Driven away, he went to Cholula ; thence to the 
sea-coast, where, it is said, he built him a canoe of serpent- 
skins, a nd departed for Tlapallan. a heaven lying somewhere 
toward the rising sun. But before he went, he promised to 
return some day, and wrest away the Empire and restore his 
own religion. In appearance he was not like our race ; his 
skin was white, his hair long and wavy and black. He is 
said to have been wise as a god, and more beautiful than 
men. Such is his history ; and, as the prophecy has it, the 
time of his return is at hand. The king and Tlalac, the 
teotuctlijf are looking for him ; they expect him every hour, 

* In Aztec m)i;hology, God of tlie Air. 
t Equivalent to Pontiff or Pope. 


8 


THE FAIR GOD. 


and, they say, live in continued dread of him. Wishing to 
propitiate him, they have called the people together, and cele- 
brate to-morrow, with sacrifices and combats and more pomp 
than was ever seen before, not excepting the time of the king’s 
coronation.” 

The hunter listened closely, and at the conclusion said, 
“ Thank you, uncle. Tell me now of the combats.” 

“Yes. In the days of the first kings it was the custom to 
go into the temples, choose the bravest warriors there set 
apart for sacrifice, bring them into the tianguez^ and make 
them do battle in the presence of the people. If they con- 
quered, they were set free and sent home with presents.”^ 

“ With whom did they combat 1 ” 

“ True enough, my son. The fight was deemed a point of 
honor amongst the Aztecs, and the best of them volunteered. 
Indeed, those were royal times ! Of late, I am sorry to say, 
the custom of which I was speaking has been neglected, but 
to-morrow it is to be revived. The scene will be very grand. 
The king and all the nobles will be there.” 

The description excited the listener’s fancy, and he said, 
with flushed cheeks, “ I would not lose the chance for the 
world. Can you tell me who of the Aztecs wHl combat h ” 

“ In the city we could easily find out ; but you must 
recollect I am going home after a long absence. The shields 
of the combatants are always exhibited in the tianguez the 
evening before the day of the fight. In that way the public 
are notified beforehand of those who take the field. As the 
city is full of caciques, you may be assured our champions 
will be noble.” 

“ Thank you again, uncle. And now, as one looking for 
service, like myself, is anxious to know with whom to en 
gage, tell me of the caciques and chiefs.” 

“ Then you intend entering the army 1 ” 

• Sahagun, Hist, de Nueva Bep. 


QUETZAL’, THE FAIR GOD. 


9 


“ Well, yes. I am tired of hunting ; and though trading 
is honorable, I have no taste for it.” 

The merchant, as if deliberating, took out a box of snuff 
and helped himself ; and then he replied, — 

The caciques are very numerous ; in no former reign, 
probably, were there so many of ability and renown. With 
some of them I have personal acquaintance ; others I know 
only by sight or reputation. You had better mention those 
of whom you have been thinking.” 

“ Well,” said the hunter, “ there is Izthl’, the Tezcucan.” * 
“ Do not think of him, I pray you ! ” And the good man 
spoke earnestly. “ He is brave as any, and perhaps as skil- 
ful, but proud, haughty, soured, and treacherous. Every- 
body fears him. I suppose you have heard of his father.” 

“ You mean the wise ’Hualpilli 'I ” 

Yes. Upon his death, not long since, Iztlil’ denied his 
brother’s right to the Tezcucan throne. There was a quarrel 
which would have ended in blood, had not Montezuma inter- 
fered, and given the city to Cacama, and all the northern 
part of the province to Iztlil’. Since that, the latter has 
been discontented with the great king. So, I say again, do 
not think of him, unless you are careless about honor.” 

Then what of Cacama 1 d Tezcuco is a goodly city. 

“ He has courage, but is too effeminate to be a great 
warrior. A garden and a soft couch deUght him more than 
camps, and dancing women better than fighting men. You 
might grow rich with him, but not renowned. Look else- 
where.” 

Then there is the lord Cuitlahua.” X 
“ The king’s brother, and governor of Iztapalapan ! ” said 
the merchant, promptly. “ Some have thought him better 

• Txtlilxochitl, son of Nezahualpilli, king of Tezcuco. 
t King of Tezcuco. 

X See Prescott’s Conq. of Mexico. 

1 * 


10 


THE FAIR GOD. 


qualified for Chapultepec than Montezuma, but it is not wise 
to say so. His people are prosperous, and he has the most 
beautiful gardens in the world; unlike Cacama, he cares 
nothing for them, when there is a field to be fought. Con- 
sidering his influence at court and his love of war, you 
would do well to bear shield for him; but, on the other 
hand, he is old. Were I in your place, my son, I would 
attach myself to some young man.” 

^‘That brings me to Maxtla, the Tesoyucan.” 

“ I know him only by repute. With scarcely a heard, he 
is chief of the king’s guard. There was never anything like 
his fortune. Listen now, I will tell you a secret which may 
be of value to you some time. The king is not as young as 
he used to be by quite forty summers.” 

The hunter smiled at the caution with which the old man 
spoke of the monarch. 

“ You see,” the speaker continued, “ time and palace life 
have changed him : he no longer leads the armies ; his days 
are passed in the temples with the priests, or in the gardens 
with his women, of whom there are several hundreds ; his 
most active amusement now is to cross the lake to his forests, 
and kill birds and rabbits by blowing little arrows at them 
through a reed. Thus changed, you can very well under- 
stand how he can be amused by songs and wit, and make 
favorites of those who best lighten his hours of satiety and 
indolence. In that way Maxtla rose, — a marvellous court- 
ier, but a very common soldier.” 

The description amused the young man, but he said gravely, 
“You have spoken wisely, uncle, and I am satisfied you know 
the men well. Really, I had no intention of entering the 
suite of either of them : they are not of my ideal ; but there 
is a cacique, if reports are to be credited, beyond all excep- 
tion, — learned and brave, honored alike by high and low.” 

** Ah ! you need not name him to me. I know him, as 


QUETZAL’, THE FAIR GOD. 


11 


who does not 1 ” And now the mercliant spoke warmly. 
“ A nobler than Guatamoziri,^ — or, as he is more commonly 
called, the ’tzin Guatamo — never dwelt in Anahuac. He 
is the people’s friend, and the Empire’s hope. His valor and 
wisdom, — ah, you should see him, my son ! Such a face ! 
His manner is so full of sweet dignity ! But I will give you 
other evidence.” 

He clapped his hands three times, and a soldier sprang 
forward at the signal. 

Do you know the ’tzin Guatamo ” asked the merchant. 

“ I am an humble soldier, my master, and the ’tzin is the 
great king’s nephew ; but I know him. When he was only 
a boy, I served under him in Tlascala. He is the best chief 
in Anahuac.” 

“ That will do.” 

The man retired. 

“ So I might call up my tamanes” the merchant resumed, 
and not one but would speak of him in the same way.” 

“ Strange ! ” said the Tihuancan, in a low tone. 

“Ho; if you allude to his popularity, it is not strange : if 
you mean the man himself, you are right. The gods seldom 
give the qualities that belong to him. He is more learned 
than Tlalac or the king ; he is generous_as becomes a pr ince ; 
in act ion he is a hero. You have probably heard of the 
Tlascalan wall in the eastern valley ; t few warriors ever 
passed it and lived ; yet he did so when almost a boy. I 

* Giiatamozin, nephew to Montezuma. Of him Bemal Diaz says : 
“ This monarch was between twenty -three and twenty-four years of age, 
and could in all truth be called a handsome man, both as regards his co\m- 
tenance and figure. His face was rather of an elongated form, with a cheer- 
ful look ; his eye had great expression, both when he assumed a majestic 
expression, or when he looked pleasantly around ; the color of his face in- 
clined to Avhite more than to the copper-brown tint of the Indians in gen- 
eral.”— Diaz, Conquest of Mexico^ Lockhart’s Trans., Vol. IV., p. 110. 

+ Prescott’s Conq. of Mexico, Vol. I., p. 417. 


12 


THE FAIR GOD. 


myself have seen him send an arrow to the heart of an eagle 
in its flight. He has a palace and garden in Iztapalapan ; in 
one of the halls stand the figures of three kings, two of 
Michuaca, and one of the Ottomies. He took them prisoners 
in battle, and now they hold torches at his feasts.” 

“ Enough, enough ! ” cried the hunter. “I have been dream- 
ing of him while among the hills. I want no better leader.” 

The merchant cast an admiring glance at his beaming 
countenance, and said, “ You are right ; enter his service.” 

In such manner the conversation was continued, until the 
sun fast declined towards the western mountains. Mean- 
time, they had passed through several hamlets and consider- 
able towns. In nearly the whole progress, the way on either 
hand had been lined with plantations. Besides the presence 
of a busy, thriving population, they everywhere saw evi- 
dences of a cultivation and science, constituting the real 
superiority of the Aztecs over their neighbors. The country 
was thus preparing the stranger for the city, unrivaUed in 
splendor and beauty. Casting a look toward the sun, he at 
length said, Uncle, I have much to thank you for, — you 
and your friends. But it is growing late, and I must hurry 
on, if I would see the. tianguez before the market closes.” 

“Very well,” returned the old trader. “We will be in 
the city to-morrow. The gods go with you ! ” 

Whistling to his ocelot, the adventurer quickened his 
pace, and was soon far in the advance. 


A CHALLENGE. 


13 


CHAPTEK III. 


A CHALLENGE. 


N the valley of Anahuac, at the time I write, are four 



-J_ lakes, — Xaltocan, Chaleo, Xochichalco, and Tezcuco. 
The latter, besides being the largest, washed the walls of 
Tonochtitlan, and was the especial pride of the Aztecs, who, 
famihar with its ways as with the city, traversed them all 
the days of the year, and even the nights. 

“ Ho, there ! ” shouted a voyageur, in a voice that might 
have been heard a long distance over the calm expanse of the 
lake. “ Ho, the canoe ! ” 

The hail was answered. 

Is it Guatamozin % ” asked the first speaker. 


‘‘ And going to Tenochtitlan 1 ” 

“ The gods willing, — yes.” 

The canoes of the voyageurs — I use that term be- 
cause it more nearly expresses the meaning of the word 
the Aztecs themselves were wont to apply to persons thus 
abroad — were, at the time, about the middle of the little 
sea. After the ’tzin’s reply, they were soon alongside, 
when lashings were applied, and together they swept on 
rapidly, for the slaves at the paddles vied in skill and dis- 
ciphne. 

“Iztlir, of Tezcuco!” said the 'tzin, lightly. “He is 
welcome ; but had a messenger asked me where at this hour 
he would most hkely be found, I should have bade him 
search the chinampas^ especially those most notable for their 
perfume and music.” 

The speech was courteous, yet the moment of reply was 


14 


THE FAIR GOD. 


allowed to pass. The ’tzin waited until the delay excited 
his wonder. 

“ There is a rumor of a great battle with the Tlascalans,” 
he said again, this time with a direct question. Has my 
friend heard of it ? ” 

“The winds that carry rumors seldom come to me,** 
answered Iztlil’. 

“ Couriers from Tlascala pass directly through your capi- 
tal— ” 

The Tezcucan laid his hand on the speaker’s shoulder. 

“ My capital ! ” he said. “ Do you speak of the city of 
Tezcuco 1 ” 

The ’tzin dashed the hand away, and arose, saying, “ Your 
meaning is dark in this dimness of stars.” 

“ Be seated,” said the other. 

“ If I sit, is it as friend or foe 1 ” 

“ Hear me ; then be yourself the judge.” 

The Aztec folded his cloak about him and resumed his 
seat, very watchful. 

“ Montezuma, the king — ” 

“ Beware ! The great king is my kinsman, and I am his 
faithful subject.” 

The Tezcucan continued. “ In the valley the king is next 
to the gods ; yet to his nephew I say I hate him, and will 
teach him that my hate is no idleness, like a passing love. 
'Tzin, a hundred years ago our races were distinct and inde- 
pendent. The birds of the woods, the winds of the prairie, 
were not more free than the people of Tezcuco. We had our 
capital, our temples, our worship, and our gods ; we cele- 
brated our own festivals, our kings commanded their own 
armies, our priesthood prescribed their own sacrifices. But 
where now are king, country, and gods 1 Alas ! you have 
seen the children of ’Hualpilli, of the blood of the Acolhuan, 
suppliants of Montezuma, the Aztec.” And, as if overcome 


A CHALLENGE. 


15 


by the recollection, he hurst into apostrophe. “ I mourn 
thee, 0 Tezcuco, garden of my childhood, palace of my 
fathers, inheritance of my right ! Against me are thy gates 
closed. The stars may come, and as of old garland thy tow- 
ers with their rays ; hut in thy echoing halls and princely 
courts never, never shall I be known again ! ” 

The silence that ensued, the Tzin was the first to break. 

You would have me understand,” he said, “ that the king 
has done you wrong. Be it so. But, for such cause, why 
quarrel with me 1 ” 

Ah, yes ! ” answered the Tezcucan, in an altered voice. 
“ Come closer, that the slaves may not hear.” 

The Aztec kept his attitude of dignity. Yet lower Iztlil’ 
dropped his voice. 

The king has a daughter whom he calls Tula, and loves 
as the light of his palace.” 

The ’tzin started, but held his peace. 

“You know her 1 ” continued the Tezcucan. 

“ Name her not ! ” said Guatamozin, passionately. 

“ Why not ? I love her, and but for you, 0 Tzin, she 
would have loved me. You, too, have done me wrong.” 

With thoughts dark as the waters he rode, the Aztec 
looked long at the light of fire painted on the sky above the 
distant city. 

“ Is Guatamozin turned woman ” asked Iztlil’, tauntingly. 

“ Tula is my cousin. We have lived the lives of brother 
and sister. In hall, in garden, on the lake, always together, 
I could not help loving her.” 

“ You mistake me,” said the other. “ I seek her for wife, 
but you seek her for ambition ; in her eyes you see only her 
father’s throne.” 

Then the Aztce’s manner changed, and he assumed the 
mastery. 

“ Enough, Tezcucan ! I listened calmly while you reviled 


16 


THE FAIR GOD. 


the king, and now I have somewhat to say. In your youth 
the wise men prophesied evil from you ; they said you were 
ingrate and blasphemer then : your whole life has but veri- 
fied their judgment. Well for your royal father and his 
beautiful city had he cut you off as they counselled him 
to do. Treason to the king, — defiance to me ! By the holy 
Sun, for each offence you should answer me shield to shield ! 
But I recollect that I am neither priest to slay a victim nor 
officer to execute the law. I mourn a feud, still more the 
blood of countrymen shed by my hand; yet the wrongs 
shall not go unavenged or without challenge. To-morrow is 
the sacrifice to Quetzal’. There vdll be combat with the best 
captives in the temples ; the arena will be in the tianguez ; 
Tenochtitlan, and aU the valley, and all the nobility of the 
Empire, wdl look on. Dare you prove your kingly blood 
I challenge the son of ’Hualpilli to share the danger with 
me.” 

The cacique was silent, and the ’tzin did not disturb him. 
At his order, however, the slaves bent their dusky forms, 
and the vessels sped on, like wingless birds. 




CHAPTEE lY. 

TENOCHTITLAN AT NIGHT. 

T he site_oL the city of Tenoch titlan was chosen by the 
gods. In the southwestern border of Lake Tezcuco, one 
morning in 1300, a wandering tribe of Aztecs saw an eagle 
perched, with outspread wings, upon a cactus, and holding a 
serpent in its talons. At a word from their priests, they took 
possession of the marsh, and there stayed their migration 
and founded the city : such is the tradition. As men love 


TENOCHTITLAN AT NIGHT. 


17 


to trace their descent back to some storied greatness, nations 
delight to associate the gods with their origin. 

Originally the Aztecs were barbarous. In their southern 
march, they brought with them only their arms and a spirit 
of sovereignty. The valley of Anahuac, when they reached 
it, was already peopled ; in fact, had been so for ages. The 
cultivation and progress they found and conquered there re- 
acted upon them. They grew apace ; and as they carried 
their shields into neighboring territory, as by intercourse 
and commerce they crept from out their shell of barbarism, 
as they strengthened in opulence and dominion, they repu- 
diated the reeds and rushes of which their primal houses were 
built, and erected enduring temples and residences of Oriental 
splendor. 

Under the smiles of the gods, whom countless victims kept 
propitiated, the city threw abroad its arms, and, before the 
passage of a century, became the emporium of the vaUey. Its 
people climbed the mountains around, and, in pursuit of cap- 
tives to grace their festivals, made the conquest of Mexico.” 
Then the kings began to centralize. They made Tenochtit- 
lan their capital ; under their encouragement, the arts grew 
and flourished ; its market became famous ; the nobles and 
privileged orders made it their dwelling-place ; wealth abound- 
ed ; as a consequence, a vast population speedily filled its 
walls and extended them as required. At the coming of the 
“ conquistadores,” it contained sixty thousand houses and 
three hundred thousand souls. Its plat testifies to a high 
degree of order and regularity, with all the streets running 
north and south, and intersected by canals, so as to leave 
quadrilateral blocks. An ancient map, exhibiting the city 
proper, presents the face of a checker-board, each square, 
except those of some of the temples and palaces, being meted 
with mathematical certainty. 

Such was the city the 'tzin and the cacique were approach- 


18 


THE FAIR GOD. 


ing. Left of tliem, half a league distant, lay the towers and 
embattled gate of Xoloc. On the horizon behind paled 
the fires of Iztapalapan, while those of Tenochtitlan at each 
moment threw brighter hues into the sky, and more richly 
empurpled the face of the lake. In mid air, high over all 
others, like a great torch, blazed the pyre of Huitzil’. * Out 
on the sea, the course of the voyageurs was occasionally ob- 
structed by chinampas at anchor, or afloat before the light 
wind ; nearer the walls, the floating gardens multiplied until 
the passage was as if through an archipelago in miniature. 
From many of them poured the light of torches ; others gave 
to the grateful sense the melody of flutes and blended voices ; 
while over them the radiance from the temples fell softly, re- 
vealing white pavilions, orange-trees, flowering shrubs, and 
nameless varieties of the unrivalled tropical vegetation. A 
breeze, strong enough to gently ripple the lake, hovered 
around the undulating retreats, scattering a largesse of per- 
fume, and so ministering to the voluptuous floramour of the 
locality. 

As the voyageurs proceeded, the city, rising to view, un- 
derwent a number of transformations. At first, amidst the 
light of its own fires, f it looked like a black sea-shore ; di- 
rectly its towers and turrets became visible, some looming 
vaguely and dark, others glowing and purpled, the whole mag- 
nified by the dim duplication below ; then it seemed like a 
cloud, one half kindled by the sun, the other obscured by 
the night. As they swept yet nearer, it changed to the 
likeness of a long, ill-defined wall, over which crept a hum 
wing-like and strange, — the hum of myriad life. 

* The God of War, — aptly called the Mexican Mars.” 

i* There was a fire for each altar in the temples whi ch was inextinguish* 
able ; and so numerous were the altars, and so hrilliant their fires, that they 
k^t the city illuminated throughout the darkest nights. Prescott, Conq. 
of Mexico, Vol. I., p 72. 


TENOCHTITLAN AT NIGHT. 


19 


In silence still they hurried forward. Vessels like their 
own, but with lanterns of stained aguave at the prows, seek- 
ing some favorite chinampa, sped by with henisons from the 
crews. At length they reached the wall, and, passing through 
an interval that formed the outlet of a canal, entered the 
city. Instantly the water became waveless ; houses encom- 
passed them ; lights gleamed across their way ; the hum that 
hovered over them while out on the lake realized itself in the 
voices of men and the notes of labor. 

Yet farther into the city, the light from the temples im 
creased. From towers, turreted like a Moresco castle, they 
heard the night-watchers proclaiming the hour. Canoes, 
in flocks, darted by them, decked with garlands, and laden 
with the wealth of a merchant, or the trade of a market-man, 
or full of revellers singing choruses to the stars or to the fair 
denizens of the palaces. Here and there the canal was bor- 
dered with sidewalks of masonry, and sometimes with 
steps leading from the water up to a portal, about which 
were companies whose flaunting, parti-colored costumes, bril- 
liant in the mellowed light, had all the appearance of Vene^ 
tian masqueraders. 

At last the canoes gained the great street that continued 
from the causeway at the south through the whole city ; then 
the Tezcucan touched the ’tzin, and said, — 

“ The son of 'Hualpilli accepts the challenge, Aztec. In 
the tianguez to-morrow.” 

Without further speech, the foemen leaped on the landing, 
and separated. 


20 


THE FAIR GOD. 


CHAPTER V. 


THE CHILD OF THE TEMPLE. 


HERE were two royal palaces in the city ; one built by 



_L Axaya’, the other by Montezuma, the reigning king, 
who naturally preferred his own structure, and so resided 
there. It was a low, irregular pile, embracing not only the 
king’s abode proper, but also quarters for his guard, and edi- 
lices for an armory, an aviary, and a menagerie. Attached 
to it was a garden, adorned with the choicest shrubbery and 
plants, with fruit and forest trees, with walks strewn with 
shells, and fountains of pure water conducted from the reser 
voir of Chapultepec. 

At night, except when the moon shone, the garden was 
lighted with lamps ; and, whether in day or night, it was a 
favorite lounging-place. During fair evenings, particularly, 
its walks, of the whiteness of snow, were thronged by nobles 
and courtiers. 

Shortly after the arrival of Iztlil’ and Guatamozin, a party, 
mostly of the sons of provincial governors kept at the palace 
as hostages, were gathered in the garden, under a canopy 
used to shield a fountain from the noonday sun. The place 
was fairly lighted, the air fresh with the breath of flowers, 
and delightful with the sound of falling water. 

Maxtla, chief of the guard, was there, his juvenility well 
hidden under an ostentatious display. That he was “ a very 
common soldier ” in the opinion of the people was of small 
moment : he had the king’s ear ; and that, without wit and 
courtierly tact, would have made him what he was, — the 
oracle of the party around him. 

In the midst of his gossip, Iztlil’, the Tezcucan, came sud- 


THE CHILD OF THE TEMPLE. 


21 


denly to the fountain. He coldly surveyed the assembly. 
Maxtla alone saluted him. 

“Will the prince of Tezcuco be seated 1 ” said the chief. 

“ The place is pleasant, and the company looks inviting,” 
returned Iztlil’, grimly. 

Since his affair with Guatamozin, he had donned the 
uniform of an Aztec chieftain. Over his shoulders was care- 
lessly flung a crimson tilmatli, — a short, square cloak, fan- 
tastically embroidered with gold, and so sprinkled with 
jewels as to flash at every movement ; his body was wrapped 
closely in an escaupil, or tunic, of cotton lightly quilted, 
over which, and around his waist, was a maxtlatl, or sash, 
inseparable from the warrior. A casque of silver, thin, 
bm-nished, and topped with plumes, surmounted his head. 
His features were gracefully moulded, and he would have 
been handsome but that his complexion was deepened by 
black, frowning eyebrows. He was excessively arrogant ; 
though sometimes, when deeply stirred by passion, his 
manner rose into the royal. His character I loave to 
history. 

“ I have just come from Iztapalapan,” he said, as he sat 
upon the proffered stool. “ The lake is calm, the way was 
very pleasant, I had the ’tzin Guatamo’ for comrade,” 

“ You were fortunate. The ^zin is good company,” said 
Maxtla. 

Iztlil’ frowned, and became silent. 

“ To-morrow,” continued the courtier, upon whom the 
discontent, slight as it was, had not been lost, “ is the sacri- 
fice to Quetzal’. I am reminded, gracious prince, that, at a 
recent celebration, you put up a thousand cocoa, to be for- 
feited if you failed to see the daughter of Mualox, the paba. 

* The Aztec currency consisted of bits of tin, in shape like a capital 
T, of quills of gold-dust, and of bags of cocoa, containing a stated num- 
ber of grains. Sahagun, Hist, de Nueva Esp. 


22 


THE FAIR GOD. 


If not improper, how runs the wager, and what of the 
result r’ 

The cacique shrugged his broad shoulders. 

“ The man trembles ! ” whispered one of the party. 

“ Well he may ! Old Mualox is more than a man. ” 

Maxtla bowed and laughed. “ Mualox is a magician ; the 
stai*s deal with him. And my brother will not speak, lest he 
may cover the sky of his fortune with clouds.” 

“ No,” said the Tezcucan, proudly ; “ the wager was not a 
sacrilege to the paba or his god ; if it was, the god, not the 
man, should be a warrior’s fear.” 

“Does Maxtla believe Mualox a prophet 1 ” asked Tlahua, 
a noble Otompan. 

“ The gods have power in the sun ; why not on earth ? ” 

“You do not like the paba,” observed Iztlil’, gloomily. 

“ Who has seen him, 0 prince, and thought of love ? 
And the walls and towers of his dusty temple, — are they 
not hung with dread, as the sky on a dark day with clouds ” 

The party, however they might dislike the cacique, could 
not listen coldly to this conversation. They were mostly of 
that mystic race of Azatlan, who, ages before, had descended 
into the valley, like an inundation, from the north; the 
race whose religion was founded upon credulity ; the race 
full of chivalry, but horribly governed by a crafty priesthood. 
None of them disbelieved in star-dealing. So every eye 
fixed on the Tezcucan, every ear drank the musical syllables of 
Maxtla. They were startled when the former said abruptly, — 

“ Comrades, the wrath of the old paba is not to be lightly 
provoked ; he has gifts not of men. But, as there is nothing 
I do not dare, I will tell the story.” 

The company now gathered close around the speaker. 

“Probably you have all heard,” he began, “that Mualox 
keeps in his temple somewhere a child or woman too beam 
tiful to be mortal. The story may be true ; yet it is only u 


THE CHILD OF THE TEMPLE. 


23 


belief; no eye has see n footprint or shadow of her, A cer- 
tain lord in the palace, who goes thrice a week to the shrine 
of Quetzal’, has faith in the gossip and the paha. He says 
the mystery is Quetzal’ himself, already returned, and wait- 
ing, concealed in the temple, the ripening of the time when 
he is to burst in vengeance on Tenochtitlan. I heard him 
talking about it one day, and wagered him a thousand cocoa 
that, if there was such a being I would see her before the 
next sacrifice to Quetzal’.” 

The Tezcucan hesitated. 

Is the believer to boast himself wealthier by the wager 
said Maxtla, profoundly interested. “ A thousand cocoa 
would buy a jewel or a slave : surely, 0 prince, surely 
they were worth the wimiing ! ” 

Iztlil’ frowned again, and said bitterly, “ A thousand cocoa 
I cannot well spare ; they do not grow on my hard northern 
hiUs like flowers in Xochimilco. I did my best to save the 
wager. Old habit lures me to the great teocallu ; * for I 
am of those who believe that a warrior’s worship is meet for 
no god but Huitzil’. But, as the girl was supposed to be 
down in the cells of the old temple, and none but Mualox 
could satisfy me, I began going there, thinking to bargain 
humilities for favor. I played my part studiously, if not 
well ; but no offering of tongue or gold ever won me word 
of friendship or smile of confidence. Hopeless and weary, I 
at last gave up, and went back to the teocallis. But now 
hear my parting with the paba. A short time ago a mystery 
was enacted in the temple. At the end, I turned to go 
away, determined that it should be my last visit. At the 
eastern steps, as I was about descending, I felt a hand 
laid on my arm. It was Mualox ; and not more terrible 
looks Tlalac when he has sacrificed a thousand victims. 

'* Temple. The term appears to have applied particularly to the 
Cemples of the god Huitzil’. — Tr. 


24 


THE FAIR GOD. 


There was no blood on his hands ; his beard and surplice 
were white and stainless ; the terror was in his eyes, that 
seemed to burn and shoot lightning. You know, good chief, 
that I could have crushed him with a blow ; yet I trembled. 
Looking back now, I cannot explain the awe that seized 
me. I remember how my will deserted me, — how another’s 
came in its stead. With a glance he bound me hand and 
foot. While I looked at him, he dilated, until I was covered 
by his shadow. He magnified himself into the stature of 
a god. ‘ Prince of Tezcuco,’ he said, * son of the wise 
'Hualpilli, from the sun Quetzal’ looks down on the earth. 
Alike over land and sea he looks. Before him space melts 
into a span, and darkness puts on the glow of day. Did 
you think to deceive my god, 0 prince?’ I could not 
answer ; my tongue was like stone. ‘ Go hence, go hence!’ 
he cried, waving his hand. ‘Your presence darkens his 
mood. His wrath is on your soul; he has cursed you. 
Hence, abandoned of the gods ! ’ So saying, he went 
back to the tower again, and my will returned, and I fled. 
And now,” said the cacique, turning suddenly and sternly 
upon his hearers, “who will deny the magic of Mualox? 
How may I be assured that his curse that day spoken was 
not indeed a curse from Quetzal’ ? ” 

There was neither word nor laugh, — not even a smile. 
The gay Maxtla appeared infected with a sombreness of 
spirit ; and it was not long until the party broke up, and 
went each his way. 


THE ctr OF QUETZAL’, AND MUALOX, THE PABA. 25 


CHAPTEE VI. 

THE Cfy OF quetzal’, AND MUALOX, THE PABA. 

O VEE the city from temple to temple passed the wail of 
the watchers, and a quarter of the night was gone. 
Eew heard the cry without pleasure; for to-morrow was 
Quetzal’s day, which would bring feasting, music, combat, 
crowd, and flowers. 

Among others the proclamation of the passing time was 
made from a temple in the neighborhood of the Tlateloco 
tianguez, or market-place, which had been built by one of the 
first kings of Tenochtitlan, and, like all edifices of that date 
properly called Cus, was of but one story, and had but one 
tower. At the south its base was washed by a canal ; on all 
the other sides it was enclosed by stone walls high, probably, 
as a man’s head. The three sides so walled were bounded 
by streets, and faced by houses, some of which were higher 
than the Cfi itself, and adorned with beautiful porticos. 
The canal on the south ran parallel with the Tlacopan cause- 
way, and intersected the Iztapalapan street at a point nearly 
half a mile above the great pyramid. 

The antique pile thus formed a square of vast extent. Ac- 
cording to the belief that there were blessings in the orient 
rays of the sun, the front was to the east, where a flight of 
steps, wide as the whole building, led from the ground to the 
azoteas, a paved area constituting the roof, crowned in the 
centre by a round tower of wood most quaintly carved with 
religious symbols. Entering the door of the tower, the dev' 
otee might at once kneel before the sacred image of Quetzal’. 

A circuitous stairway outside the tower conducted to its 
summit, where blazed the fire. AnotJier flight of steps about 
2 


26 


THE FAIR GOD. 


midway the tower and the western verge of the azoteas de- 
scended into a court-yard, around which, in tlie shade of a 
colonnade, were doors and windows of habitable apartments 
and passages leading far into the interior. And there, 
shrouded in a perpetual twilight and darkness, once slept, 
ate, prayed, and studied or dreamed the members of a frater- 
nity powerful as the Templars and gloomy as the Fratres 
Minores. 

The interior was cut into rooms, and long, winding halls, 
and countless cellular dens. 

Such was the Cu of Quetzal’, — stern, sombre, and massive 
as in its first days; unchanged in all save the prosperity 
of its priesthood and the popularity of its shrine. Time was 
when every cell contained its votaries, and kings, returning 
from battle, bowed before the altar. But Montezuma had 
built a new edifice, and set up there a new idol ; and as if a 
king could better make a god than custom, the people aban- 
doned the old ones to desuetude. Up in the ancient cupola, 
however, sat the image said to have been carved by Quetzal’s 
own hand. Still the fair face looked out benignly on its realm 
of air ; carelessly the winds waved “ the plumes of fire ” that 
decked its awful head ; and one stony hand yet grasped a 
golden sceptre, while the other held aloft the painted shiei-v. 
— symbols of its dominion.'*^ But the servitors and surpliced 
mystics were gone ; the cells were very solitudes ; the last 
paba lingered to protect the image and its mansion, all un- 
witting how, in his faithfulness of love, he himself had as- 
smned the highest prerogative of a god. 

The fire from the urn on the tower flashed a red glow down 
over the azoteas, near a corner of which Mualox stood, his 
beard white and flowing as his surplice. Thought of days 
palmier for himself and more glorious for his temple and god 
struggled to his lips. 

“Children of Azatlan, ye have strayed from his shrine^ 
• Sabaguii, Hist, de Nueva Esw, 


THE cO OF QUETZAL’, AND MUALOX, THE PABA. 27 


and dust is on his shield. The temple is of his handiwork, 
but its chambers are voiceless ; the morning comes and falls 
asleep on its steps, and no foot disturbs it, no one seeks its 
blessings. Where is the hymn of the choir % Where the 
prayer % WTiere the holiness that rested, like a spell, around 
the altar ? Is the valley fruitless, and are the gardens with- 
out flowers, that he should be without offering or sacrifice ? 
.... Ah ! well ye know that the day is not distant when 
he will ghster again in the valley ; when he will come, not 
as of old he departed, the full harvest quick ripening in his 
footsteps, but with the power of Mictlan,* the owl on his 
skirt, and death in his hand. Eeturn, 0 children, and Tenoch- 
titlan may yet live ! ” 

In the midst of his pleadings there was a clang of san- 
dalled feet on the pavement, and two men came near him, 
and stopped. One of them wore the hood and long black 
gown of a priest ; the other the full military garb, — bur- 
nished casque crested with plumes, a fur-trimmed 
escavpilj and maoctlatlf and sandals the thongs of which were 
embossed with silver. He also carried a javelin, and a 
shield with an owl painted on its face. Indeed, one will 
travel far before finding, among Christians or unbelievers, 
his peer. He was then not more than twenty-five years old, 
tall and nobly proportioned, and with a bearing truly royal. 
In Spain I have seen eyes as large and lustrous, but none of 
such power and variety of expression. His complexion was 
merely the brown of the suii. Though very masculine, his 
features, especially when the spirit was in repose, were soft- 
ened by an expression unusually gentle and attractive. 
Such was the ’tzin Guatamo’, or, as he is more commonly 
known in history, Guatamozin, — the highest, noblest type 
of his race, blending in one its genius and heroism, with 
but few of its debasements. 

• The Mexican Hell. The owl was the symbol of the Devil, whose name 
signifies ** the rational owl. ” 


28 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Mualox,” said the priestly stranger. 

The paha turned, and knelt, and kissed the 23avement. 

“ 0 king, pardon your slave ! He was dreaming of his 
country.” 

“IS'o slave of mine, but Quetzal’s. Up, Mualox!” said 
Montezuma, throwing back the hood that covered his head. 

Holy should be the dust that mingles in your beard ! ” 

And the light from the tower shone full on the face of 
iaim, — the priest of lore profound, and monarch wise of 
thought, for whom Heaven was prejDaring a destiny most 
memorable among the melancholy episodes of history. 

A slight mustache shaded his upper lip, and thin, dark 
beard covered his chin and throat j his nose was straight; 
his brows curved archly ; his forehead was broad and full, 
while he seemed possessed of height and strength. His 
neck was round, muscular, and encircled by a collar of 
golden wires. His manner was winsome, and he spoke to 
the kneeling man in a voice clear, distinct, and sufficiently 
emphatic for the king he was."*^ 

Mualox arose, and stood with downcast eyes, and hands 
crossed over his breast. 

“ Many a coming of stars it has been,” he said, “ since 
the old shrine has known the favor of gift from Montezuma. 
Gloom of clouds in a vale of firs is not darker than the 
mood of Quetzal’; but to the poor paba, your voice, 0 
king, is welcome as the song of the river in the ear of the 
thirsty.” 

The king looked up at the fire on the tower. 

“Why should the mood of Quetzal’ be dark? A new 
teocallis holds his image. His priests are proud ; and they say 
he is happy, and that when he comes from the golden land 
his canoe wil be full of blessings.” 


^erual Diaz, Hist, de la Conquista. 


THE CU OF QUETZAL’, AND MUALOX, THE PABA. 29 


Mualox sighed, and when he ventured to raise his eyes 
to the king’s, they were wet with tears. 

“ 0 king, have you forgotten that chapter of the teoamox- 
tliy* in which is written how this Ch was built, and its 
first fires lighted, by Quetzal’ himself'? The new pyramid 
may be grand ; its towers may he numberless, and its fir"'' 
far reaching as the sun itself : but hope not that will satis 
the god, while his own house is desolate. In the name ( 
Quetzal’, I, his true servant, tell you, never again look f 
smile from Tlapallan.” 

The- paba’s speech was bold, and the king frowned ; but 
in the eyes of the venerable man there was the unaccount- 
able fascination mentioned by Iztlil’. 

“ I remember the Mualox of my father’s day ; surely he 
was not as you are ! ” Then, laying his hand on the ’tzin’s 
arm, the monarch added, “ Did you not say the holy man 
had something to tell me '? ” 

Mualox answered, “ Even so, 0 king ! Few are the 
friends left the paba, now that liis religion and god are 
mocked ; but the ’tzin is faithful. At my bidding he went 
to the palace. Will Montezuma go with his servant 1” 
Where?” 

*^ Only into the Cu.” 

The monarch faltered. 




“ Dread be from you ! ” said Mualox. “ Think you it is 
as hard to be faithful to a king as to a god whom even he 
has abandoned ? ” 

Montezuma was touched. “ Let us go,” he said to the 
’tzin 


♦ The Divine Book, or Bible. Ixtlil’s Relaciones M. S. 


30 


THE FAIR GOD. 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE PROPHECY ON THE WALL. 


UALOX led them into the tower. The light of pnr- 



_LV_1_ pled lamps filled the sacred place, and played softly 
around the idol, before which they bowed. Then he took a 
light from the altar, and conducted them to the azoteas, and 
down into the court-yard, from whence they entered a hall 
leading on into the Cii. 

The way was labyrinthine, and both the king and the 
’tzin became bewildered ; they only knew that they de- 
scended several stairways, and walked a considerable dis- 
tance ; nevertheless, they submitted themselves entirely to 
their guide, who went forward without hesitancy. At last 
he stopped ; and, by the light which he held up for the pur- 
pose, they saw in a wall an aperture roughly excavated, and 
large enough to admit them singly. 

“ You have read the Holy Book, wise king,” said Mualox. 
“ Can you not recall its saying that, before the founding of 
Tenochtitlan, a Cu was begun, with chambers to lie under 
the bed of the lake^ Especially, do you not remember 
the declaration that, in some of those chambers, besides a 
store of wealth so vast as to be beyon^i the calculation of 
men, there were prophecies to be read, written on the walls 
by a god 1 ” 

“ I remember it,” said the king. 

“ Give me faith, then, and I will show you all you there 


read.” 


Thereupoii the paba stepped into the aperture, saying, — 

“ Mark ! I am now standing under the eastern wall of the 


old Cu.” 


THE PROPHECY ON THE WALL. 


31 


He passed through, and they followed him, and were 
amazed. 

“ Look around, 0 king ! You are in one of the chambers 
mentioned in the Holy Book.” 

The light penetrated hut a short distance, so that Mon- 
tezuma could form no idea of the extent of the apartment. 
He would have thought it a great natural cavern hut for 
the floor smoothly paved with alternate red and gray flags, 
and some massive stone blocks rudely piled up in places to 
support the roof. 

As they proceeded, Mualox said, “ On every side of us 
there are rooms through which we might go till, in stormy 
weather, the waves of the lake can be heard breaking over- 
head.” 

In a short time they again stopped. 

We are nearly there. Son of a king, is your heart 
strong % ” said Mualox, solemnly. 

Montezuma made no answer. 

“ Many a time,” continued the paha, “ your glance has 
rested on the tower of the old Cfl, then flashed to where, in 
prouder state, your pyramids rise. You never thought the 
gray pile you smiled at was the humblest of all Quetzal’s 
works. Can a man, though a king, outdo a god 1 ” 

“ I never thought so, I never thought so ! ” 

But the mystic did not notice the deprecation. 

“ See,” he said, speaking louder, “ the pride of man says, I 
will build upward that the sun may show my power ; but 
the gods are too great for pride ; so the sun shines not on 
their especial glories, which as frequently lie in the earth 
and sea as in the air and heavens. 0 mighty king ! You 
crush the wg im under you r sanda ],_ne ver thinkin g t hat its 
humbl e life is more wonderf ul than a ll, your temples and 
state. It was the same folly that laughed at the simple towel 
of Quetzal’, which has mysteries — ” 


32 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ Mysteries ! ” said the king. 

I will show you wealth enough to restock the mines 
and visited valleys with all their plundered gold and 
jewels.” 

“You are dreaming, paha.” 

“ Come, then ; let us see ! ” 

They moved past some columns, and came before a great, 
arched doorway, through which streamed a brilliance like 
day. 

“ Now, let your souls be strong ! ” 

They entered the door, and for a while were blinded by the 
glare, and could see only the floor covered with grains of gold 
large as wheat. Mo\dng on, they came to a great stone table, 
and stopped. 

“ You wonder ; and so did I, until I was reminded that a 
god had been here. Look up, 0 king ! look up, and see the 
handiwork of Quetzal’ ! ” 

The chamber was broad and square. The obstruction of 
many pillars, forming the stay of the roof, was compensated by 
their lightness and wonderful carving. Lamps, lit by Mua- 
lox in anticipation of the royal coming, blazed in all quarters. 
Tho ceiling was covered with lattice-work of shining white 
and yellow metals, the preciousness of which was palpable to 
eyes accustomed like the monarch’s. Where the bars crossed 
each other, there were fanciful representations of flowers, 
wrought in gold, some of them large as shields, and garnished 
with jewels that burned with star-like fires. Between the 
columns, up and down ran rows of brazen tables, bearing 
urns and vases of the royal metals, higher than tall men, and 
carved all over with gods in has-relief, not as hideous cari- 
catures, but beautiful as love and Grecia n jkiU could make 
them. Between the vases and urns there were heaps of 
rubies and pearls and brilliants, amongst which looked out 
softly the familiar, pale-green lustre of the chalchuiteSy oi 


THE PROPHECY ON THE WALL. 


33 


priceless Aztecan diamond.* And here and there, like 
guardians of the buried beauty and treasure, statues looked 
down from tall pedestals, crowned and armed, as became the 
kings and demi-gods of a great and martial people. The 
monarch was speechless. Again and again he surveyed the 
golden chamber. As if seeking an explanation, but too 
overwhelmed for words, he turned to Mualox. 

“ And now does Montezuma believe his servant dream- 
ing 1 ” said the paba. “ Quetzal’ directed the discovery of 
the chamber. I knew of it, 0 king, before you were born. 
And here is the wealth of which I spoke. If it so confounds 
you, how much more wiU the other mystery ! I have dug 
up a prophecy ; from darkness plucked a treasure richer than 
all these. 0 king, I will give you to read a message from 
the gods ! ” 

The monarch’s face became bloodless, and it had now not 
a trace of scepticism. 

“ I will show you from Quetzal’ himself that the end of 
your Empire is at hand, and that every wind of the earth is 
full sown with woe to you and yours. The writing is on 
the walls. Come ! ” 

And he led the king, followed by Guatamozin, to the 
northern corner of the eastern wall, on which, in square 
marble panels, bas-relief style, were hierograms and sculp- 
tured pictures of men, executed apparently by the same 
hand that chiselled the statues in the room. The ground 
of the carvings was coated with coarse gray coral, which 
had the effect to bring out the white figures with marvel- 
lous perfection. 

‘‘This, 0 king, is the writing,” said Mualox, “which 
begins here, and continues around the walls, I will read, 
if you please to hear.” 

* A kind of emerald, used altogether by the nobility. Sahagun, Hist, 
de Nueva Esp, 


2 * 


c 


34 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Montezuma waved his hand, and the paha proceeded. 

“ This figure is that of the first king of Tenochtitlan ; the 
others are his followers. The letters record the time of the 
march from the north. Observe that the first of the writing 
— its commencement — is here in the north.” 

After a little while, they moved on to the second panel. 

** Here,” said Mualox, “ is represented the march of the 
king. It was accompanied with battles. See, he stands 
with lifted javelin, his foot on the breast of a prostrate foe. 
His followers dance and sound shells ; the priests sacrifice a 
victim. The king has won a great victory.” 

They stopped before the third panel. 

“ And here the monarch is still on the march. He is in 
the midst of his warriors ; no doubt the crown he is receiving 
is that of the ruler of a conquered city.” 

This cartoon Montezuma examined closely. The chief, or 
king, was distinguished by a crown in all respects like that 
then in the palace ; the priests, by their long gowns ; and the 
warriors, by tlieir arms, which, as they were counterparts 
of those still in use, sufficiently identified the wanderers. 
Greatly was the royal inspector troubled. And as the paha 
slowly conducted him from panel to panel, he forgot the 
treasure with which the chamber was stored. What he read 
was the story of his race, the record of their glory. The 
whole eastern wall, he found, when he had passed before it, 
given to illustrations of the crusade from Azatlan, the father- 
land, northward so far that corn was gathered in the snow, 
and flowers were the wonder of the six weeks’ summer. 

In front of the first panel on the southern wall Mualox 
said, — 

“ All we have passed is the first era in the history ; this is 
the beginning of the second ; and the first writing on the 
western wall will commence a third. Here the king stands 
on a rock ; a priest points him to an eagle on a cactus, hold- 


THE PROPHECY ON THE WALL. 


35 


ing a serpent. At last they have reached the place where 
Tenochtitlan is to he founded.” 

The paha passed on. 

“ Here,” he said, “ are temples and palaces. The king re- 
clines on a couch ; the city has been founded.” 

And before another panel, — “ Look well to this, 0 king i 
A new character is introduced ; here it is before an altar, 
offering a sacrifice of fruits and flowers. It is Quetzal’ ! In 
his worship, you recollect, there is no slaughter of victims. 
My hands are pure of blood.” 

The Quetzal’, with its pleasant face, flowing curls, and 
simple costume, seemed to have a charm for Montezuma, for 
he mused over it a long time. Some distance on, the figure 
again appeared, stepping into a canoe, while the people, tem- 
ples, and palaces of the city were behind it. Mualox ex- 
plained, “ See, 0 king ! The fair god is departing from 
Tenochtitlan; he has been banished. Saddest of all the 
days was that ! ” 

And so, the holy man interpreting, they moved along the 
southern wall. Hot a scene but was illustrative of some in- 
cident memorable in the Aztecan history. And the review- 
ers were struck with the faithfulness of the record not less 
than with the beauty of the work. 

On the western wall, the first cartoon represented a young 
man sweeping the steps of a temple. Montezuma paused be- 
fore it amazed, and Guatamozin for the first time cried out, 
“ It is the king ! It is the king ! ” The likeness was per- 
fect. 

After that came a coronation scene. The teotuctli was 
placing a panache^ on Montezuma’s head. In the third 
cartoon, he was with the army, going to battle. In the 


* Or ca^llif — the king’s crown. A panache was the head-dress of a 
warrior. 


36 


THE FAIR GOD. 


fourth, he was seated, while a man clad in iieguen* but 
crowned, stood before him. 

‘•You have grown familiar with triumphs, and it is many 
summers since, 0 king,” said Mualox ; “ but you have not 
yet forgotten the gladness of your first conquest. Here is 
its record. As we go on, recall the kings who were thus 
made to stand before you.” 

And counting as they proceeded, Montezuma found that 
in every cartoon there was an additional figure crowned 
and in nequen. When they came to the one next the last 
on the western wall, he said, — 

“ Show me the meaning of all this : here are thirty 
kings.” 

“ Will the king tell his slave the number of cities he has 
conquered 1 ” 

He thought awhile, and replied, “ Thirty.” 

“ Then the record is faithful. It started with the first 
king of Tenochtitlan ; it came down to your coronation j 
now, it has numbered your conquests. See you not, 0 
king ] Behind us, all the writing is of the past j this is 
Montezuma and Tenochtitlan as they are : the present is 
before us ! Could the hand that set this chamber and 
carved these walls have been a man’s 1 Who but a god six 
cycles ago could have foreseen that a son of the son of Axa- 
ya’ would carry the rulers of thirty conquered cities in his 
train 1 ” 

The royal visitor listened breathlessly. He began to com- 
prehend the writing, and thrill with fast-coming presenti- 
ments. Yet he struggled with his fears. 

“ Prophecy has to do with the future,” he said ; “ and you 
have shown me nothing that the sculptors and jewellers in 

* A garment of coarse white material, made from the fibre of the aloe, 
and by court etiquette required to be worn by courtiers and suitors in the 
king’s presence. The rule appears to liave been of universal application. 


THE PROPHECY ON THE WALL. 


37 


my palace cannot do. Would you have me believe all this 
from Quetzal’, show me something that is to come.” 

Mualox led him to the next scene which represented the 
king sitting in state ; above him a canopy ; his nobles and 
the women of his household around him ; at his feet the peo- 
ple ; and all were looking at a combat going on between 
warriors. 

“You have asked for prophecy, — behold!” said Mua- 
lox. 

“ I see nothing,” replied the king. 

“ Nothing ! Is not this the celebration to-morrow ? Since 
it was ordered, could your sculptors have executed what you 
see?” 

Back to the monarch’s face stole the pallor. 

“ Look again, 0 king ! You only saw yourself, your peo- 
ple and warriors. But what is this ? ” 

Walking up, he laid his finger dn the representation of a 
man landing from a canoe. 

“ The last we beheld of Quetzal’,” he continued, “ was on 
the southern wall j his back was to Tenochtitlan, which he 
was leaving with a curse. AU you have heard about his 
promise to return is true. He himself has written the very 
day, and here it is. Look ! While the king, his warriors 
and people, are gathered to the combat. Quetzal’ steps from 
the canoe to the sea-shore.” 

The figure in the carving was scarcely two hands high, but 
exquisitely wrought. With terror poorly concealed, Monte- 
zuma recognized it, 

“ And now my promise is redeemed. I said I would 
give you to read a message from the sun.” 

“ Read, Mualox: I cannot.” 

The holy man turned to the writing, and said, with a 
swelling voice, “ Thus writes Quetzal’ to Montezuma, the 
king ! In the last day he will seek to stay my vengeance ; 


38 


THE FAIE GOD. 


he will call together his people ; there will be combat in 
Tenoclititlan ; but in the midst of the rejoicing I will land 
on the sea-shore, and end the days of Azatlan forever.” 

“Forever!” said the unhappy monarch. “No, no! 
Read the next writing.” 

“ There is no other ; this is the last.” 

The eastern, southern, and western walls had been suc- 
cessively passed, and interpreted. Now the king turned to 
the northern wall : it was blank ! His eyes flashed, and he 
almost shouted, — 

“ Liar 1 Quetzal’ may come to-morrow, but it will be as 
friend. There is no curse ! ” 

The paba humbled himself before the speaker, and said, 
slowly and tearfully, “ The wise king is blinded by liis hope. 
When Quetzal’ finished this chapter, his task was done ; he 
had recorded the last day of perfect glory, and ceased to 
write because, Azatlan being now to perish, there was noth- 
ing more to record. 0 unhappy king 1 that is the curse, 
and it needed no writing I ” 

Montezuma shook with passion. 

“ Lead me hence, lead me hence I ” he cried. “ I will 
watch ; and if Quetzal’ comes not on the morrow, — comes 
not during the celebration, — I swear to level this temple, 
and let the lake into its chambei-s ! And you, paba 
though you be, I will drown you like a slave ! Lead on ! ” 

Mualox obeyed without a word. Lamp in hand, he led 
his visitors from the splendid chamber up to the azoteas of 
the ancient house. As they descended the eastern steps, he 
knelt, and kissed the pavement. 


A BUSINESS MAN IN TENOCHTITLAN. 


39 


CHAPTEE VIIL 


A BUSINESS MAN IN TENOCHTITLAN. 

OLI, the Chalcan, was supposed to be the richest citi- 



zen, exclusive of the nobles, in Tenochtitlan. Amongst 
other properties, he owned a house on the eastern side of the 
Tlateloco tianguez, or market-place ; which, whether con- 
sidered architecturally, or with reference to the business to 
which it was devoted, or as the device of an unassoilzied 
heathen, was certainly very remarkable. Its portico had six 
great columns of Avhite marble alternating six others of green 
porphyry, with a roof guarded by a parapet intricately and 
tastefully carved ; while cushioned lounges, heavy curtains 
festooned and flashing with cochineal, and a fountain of 
water pure enough for the draught of a king, all within the 
column^i, perfected it as a retreat from the sultry summer sun. 

The house thus elegantly garnished was not a meson, or a 
cafe, or a theatre, or a broker’s office ; hut rather a combina- 
tion of them all, and therefore divided into many apart- 
ments ; of which one was for the sale of beverages' favorite 
among the wealthy and noble Aztecs, Eacchic inventions, 
with pnlqiie for chief staple, since it had the sanction of 
antiquity and was mildly intoxicating ; another was a res- 
taurant, where the cuisine was only excelled at the royal 
table ; indeed, there was a story abroad that the king had 
several times borrowed the services of the Chalcan s 
artistes ; but, Avhether derived from the master or his 
slaves, the shrewd reader will conclude from it, that 
the science of advertising was known and practised as 
well in Tenochtitlan as in Madrid Nor were these 
all. Under the same roof were rooms for the amusement of 


40 


THE FAIR GOD. 


patrons, — for reading, smoking, and games ; one in especial 
for a play of hazard called totoloque, then very popular, be- 
cause a passion of Montezuma’s. Finally, as entertainments 
not prohibited by the teotuctli, a signal would, at any time, 
summon a minstrel, a juggler, or a dancing-girl. Hardly 
need I say that the establishment was successful. Always 
ringing with music, and of nights always resplendent with 
lamps, it was always overflowing with custom. 

“ So old Tepaja wanted you to be a merchant,” said the 
Chalcan, in his full, round voice, as, comfortably seated under 
the curtains of his portico, he smoked his pipe, and talked 
with our young friend, the Tihuancan. 

“ Yes. How that he is old, he thinks war dangerous.” 

“ You mistake him, boy. He merely thinks with me, that 
there is something more real in wealth and many slaves. 
As he has grown older, he has grown wiser.” 

“ As you will. I could not be a merchant.” 

“ Whom did you think of serving 1 ” 

“ The ’tzin Guatamo.” ^ 

** I know him. He comes to my portico sometimes, but 
not to borrow money. You see, I frequently act as broker, 
and take deposits from the merchants and securities from 
the spendthrift nobles ; he, however, has no vices. 
When not with the army, he passes the time in study; 
though they do say he goes a great deal to the palace to 
make love to the princess. And now that I reflect, I doubt 
if you can get place with him.’* 

“Why sol” 

“Well, he keeps no idle train, and the time is very quiet 
If he were going to the frontier it would be different.” 

“ Indeed ! ” 

“ You see, boy, he is tlie bravest man and best fighter in 

* 'Tzin was a title eqiiivalent to lord in English. Quatamotzin, as 
compounded, signifies Lord Ottatamo. 


A BUSINESS MAN IN TENOCHTITLAN. 


41 


the army ; and the sensible fellows of moderate skill and 
ambition have no fancy for the hot place in a fight, which 
is generally where he is.” 

“ The discredit is not to him, by Our Mother ! ” said 
Hualpa, laughing. 

The broker stopped to cherish the fire in his pipe, — an 
act which the inexperienced consider wholly incompatible 
with the profound reflection he certainly indulged. When 
next he spoke, it was with smoke wreathing his round face, 
as white clouds sometimes wreathe the full moon. 

“ About an hour ago a fellow came here, and said he had 
heard that Iztlil’, the Tezcucan, had challenged the ’tzin to go 
into the arena with him to-morrow. Not a bad thing for 
the god Quetzal’, if all I hear be true 1 ” 

Again the pipe, and then the continuation. 

“You see, when the combat was determined on, there 
happened to be in the temples two Othmies and two Tlas- 
calans, warriors of very great report. As soon as it became 
known that, by the king’s choice, they were the challengers, 
the young fellows about the palace shunned the sport, and 
there was danger that the god would find himself without a 
champion. To avoid such a disgrace, the ’tzin was coming 
here to-night to hang his shield in the portico. If he and 
the Tezcucan both take up the fight, it wiU be a great day 
indeed.” 

The silence that ensued was broken by the hunter, whom 
the gossip had plunged into revery. 

“ I pray your pardon, Xoli ; but you said, I think, that the 
lords hang back from the danger. Can any one volunteer 1 ” 

“Certainly; any one who is a warrior, and is in time. 
Are you of that mind 1 ” 

The Chalcan took down the pipe, and looked at h i m ear- 
nestly. 

“ If I had the arms — ” 


42 


THE FAIR GOD, 


“ But you know nothing about it, — not even how such 
combats are conducted ! ” 

The broker was now astonished. 

“ Listen to me,” he said. “ These combats are always in 
honor of some one or more of the Aztecan gods, — generally 
of Huitzil’, god of war. They used to be very simple af- 
fairs. A small platform of stone, of the height of a man, 
was put up in the midst of the tianguez, so as to be seen by 
the people standing around; and upon it, in pairs, the 
champions fought their duels. This, however, was too plain 
to suit the tastes of the last Montezuma ; and he changed 
the ceremony into a spectacle really honorable and great. 
Now, the arena is first prepared, — a central space in a great 
many rows of seats erected so as to rise one above the other. 
At the proper time, the people, the priests, and the soldiers 
go in and take possession of their allotted places. Some 
time previous, the quarters of the prisoners taken in battle 
are examined, and two or more of the best of the warriors 
found there are chosen by the king, and put in training for 
the occasion. They are treated fairly, and are told that, if 
they fight and win, they shall be crowned as heroes, and 
returned to their tribes. No need, I think, to tell you how 
brave men fight when stimulated by hope of glory and hope 
of life. When chosen, their names are published, and their 
shields hung up in a portico on the other side of the square 
yonder ; after which they are understood to be the challeng- 
ers of any equal number of warriors who dare become 
champions of the god or gods in whose honor the celebra- 
tion is had. Think of the approved skill and valor of the 
foe ; think of the thousands who will be present ; think of 
your own inexperience in war, and of your youth, your 
stature hardly gained, your muscles hardly matured ; think 
of everything tending to weaken your chances of success, — 
and then speak to me.” 


A BUSINESS MAN IN TENOCHTITLAN. 


43 


Hualpa met the sharp gaze of the Chalcan steadily, and 
answered, “ I am thought to have some skill with the bow 
and maquahuitl. Get me the opportunity, and I will fight.” 

And Xoli, who was a sincere friend, reflected awhile. 
“There is peril in the undertaking, to be sure; hut then 
he is resolved to he a warrior, and if he survives, it is glory 
at once gained, fortune at once made.” Then he arose, and, 
smiling, said aloud, “ Let us go to the portico. If the list 
be not fuU, you shall have the arms, — yes, by the Sun ! as 
the lordly Aztecs swear, — the very best in Tenochtitlan.” 

And they lifted the curtains, and stepped into the tian- 
guez* The light of the fires on the temples was hardly more 
in strength than the shine of the moon ; so that torches had 
to be set up at intervals over the celebrated square. On an 
ordinary occasion, with a visitation of forty thousand busy 
buyers and sellers, it was a show of merchants and mer- 
chantable staples worthy the chief mart of an empire so 
notable ; but now, drawn by the double attraction of market 
and celebration, the multitude that thronged it was trebly 
greater ; yet the order was perfect. 

An officer, at the head of a patrol, passed them with a 
prisoner. 

“ Ho, Chalcan ! If you would see justice done, follow 
me.” 

“Thanks, thanks, good friend; I have been before the 
judges too often already.” 

So the preservation of the peace was no mystery. 

The friends made way slowly, giving the Tihuancan time 
to gratify his curiosity. He found the place like a great 
national fair, in which few branches of industry were unrep- 
resented. There were smiths who worked in the coarser 

* The great market-place or square of Tlateloco. The Spaniards called it 
tianguez. For description, see Prescott, Conq. of Mexico, VoL II., Book 
rV. Bernal Diaz’s Work, Hist, de la Conq. 


44 


THE FAIR GOD. 


metals, and jewellers skilful as those of Europe ; there were 
makers and dealers in furniture, and sandals, and plumaje ; 
at one place men were disposing of fruits, flowers, and vege- 
tables ; not far away fishermen boasted their stock caught 
that day in the fresh waters of Chaleo ; tables of pastry and 
maize bread were set next the quarters of the hunters of 
Xilotepec ; the armorers, clothiers, and dealers in cotton 
were each of them a separate host. In no land where a 
science has been taught or a book written have the fine arts 
been dishonored ; and so in the great market of Tenochtit- 
lan there were no galleries so rich as those of the painters, 
nor was any craft allowed such space for their exhibitions as 
the sculptors. 

They halted an instant before a porch full of slaves. A 
rapid glance at the miserable wretches, and Xoli said, piti- 
lessly, “ Bah ! Mictlan has many such. Let us go.” 

Farther on they came to a platform on which a band of 
mountebanks was performing. Hualpa would have stayed 
to witness their tableaux, but Xoli was impatient. 

“ You see yon barber’s shop,” he said ; “ next to it is the 
portico we seek. Come on ! ” 

At last they arrived there, and mixed with the crowd 
curious like themselves. 

“ Ah, boy, you are too late ! The list is full.” 

The Chalcan spoke regretfully. 

Hualpa looked for himself. On a clear white wall, that 
fairly glistened with the flood of light pouring upon it, he 
counted eight shields, or gages of battle. Over the four to the 
left were picture-written, “ Othmies,” “ Tlascalans.” They 
belonged to the challengers, and were battered and stained, 
proving that their gathering had been in no field of peace. 
The four to the right were of the Aztecs, and all bore de- 
vices except one. A sentinel stood silently beneath them. 

^ Welcome, Chalcan ! ” said a citizen, saluting the broker. 


A BUSINESS MAN IN TENOCHTITLAN. 


45 


“ You are in good time to tell us the owners of the shields 
here.” 

“ Of the Aztecs ] ” 

“ Yes.” 

“Well,” said Xoli, slowly and gravely. “The shields I 
do not know are few and of little note. At one time or 
another I have seen them all pass my portico going to 
battle.” 

A bystander, listening, whispered to his friends, — 

“ The braggart ! He says nothing of the times the owners 
passed his door to get a pinch of his snufi’.” 

“ Or to get drunk on his abominable pulque^' said another. 

“ Or to get a loan, leaving their palaces in pawn,” said a 
third party. 

But Xoli went on impressively, — 

“ Those two to the left belong to a surly Otompan and a 
girl-faced Cholulan. They had a quarrel in the king’s gar- 
den, and this is the upshot. That other, — surely, 0 citizens, 
you know the shield of Iztlil’, the Tezcucan ! ” 

“ Yes ; but its neighbor ^ ” 

“ The plain shield ! Its owner has a name to win. I can 
find you enough such here in the market to equip an army. 
Say, soldier, whose gage is that ? ” 

The sentinel shook his head. “ A page came not long ago, 
and asked me to hang it up by the side of the Tezcucan’s. 
He said not whom he served.” 

“ Well, maybe you know the challengers.” 

“ Two of the shields belong to a father and son of the 
tribe of Othmies. In the last battle the son alone slew eight 
Cempoallan warriors for us. Tlascalans, whose names I do 
not know, own the others.” 

“ Do you think they will escape 1 ” asked a citizen. 

The sentinel smiled grimly, and said, “Not if it be true 
that yon plain shield belongs to Guatamo, the tzin. 


46 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Directly a patrol, rudely thrusting the citizens aside, came 
to relieve the guard. In the confusion, the Chalcan whis- 
pered to his friend, “ Let us go back. There is no chance 
for you in the arena to-morrow ; and this new fellow is sul- 
len ; his tongue would not wag though I promised him drink 
from the king’s vase.” 

Soon after they reached the Chalcan’s portico and disap- 
peared in the building, the cry of the night-watchers arose 
from the temples, and the market was closed. The great 
crowd vanished ; in stall and portico the lights were extin- 
guished ; but at once another scene equally tumultuous 
usurped the tianguez. Thousands of half-naked tamanes 
rushed into the deserted place, and all night long it re- 
sounded, like a Babel, with clamor of tongues, and notes 
of mighty preparation. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE QUESTIONER OF THE MORNING. 

HEX Montezuma departed from the old Ch for his 



V V palace, it was not to sleep or rest. The revelation 
that so disturbed him, that held him wordless on the street, 
and made him shrink from his people, wild with the promise 
of pomp and combat, would not be shut out by gates and 
guards ; it clung to his memory, and with him stood by the 
fountain, walked in the garden, and laid down on his couch. 
Royalty had no medicine for the trouble ; he was restless as 
a fevered slave, and at times muttered prayers, pronouncing 
no name but Quetzal’s. When the morning approached, he 
called Maxtla, and bade him get ready his canoe : from 
Chapultepec, the palace and tomb of his fathers, he would see 
the sun rise. 


THE QUESTIONER OF THE MORNING. 


47 


rrom one of the westerly canals they put out. The lake 
was still rocking the night on its bosom, and no light other 
than of the stars shone in the east. The gurgling sound of 
waters parted by the rushing vessel, and the regular dip of 
the paddles, were all that disturbed the brooding of majesty 
abroad thus early on Tezcuco. 

The canoe struck the white pebbles that strewed the land- 
ing at the princely property just as dawn was dappling the 
sky. On the highest point of the hill there was a tower 
from which the kings were accustomed to observe the stars. 
Thither Montezuma went. Maxtla, who alone dared follow, 
spread a mat for him on the tiles ; kneeling upon it, and 
folding his hands worshipfuUy upon his breast, he looked 
to the east. 

And the king was learned ; indeed, one more so was 
not in all his reahn. In his student days, and in his priest- 
hood, before he was taken from sweeping the temple to be 
arch-ruler, he had gained astrological craft, and yet practised 
it from habit. The heavens, with their blazonry, were to 
him as pictured parchments. He loved the stars for their 
sublime mystery, and had faith in them as oracles. He con- 
sulted them always ; his armies marched at their bidding ; 
and they and the gods controlled every movement of his 
civil polity. But as he had never before been moved by so 
great a trouble, and as the knowledge he now sought directly 
concerned his throne and nations, he came to consult and 
question the Morning, that intelligence higher and purer 
than the stars. If Quetzal’ was angered, and would that 
day land for vengeance, he naturally supposed the Sun, his 
dwelling-place, would give some warning. So he came seek- 
ing the mood of the god from the Sun. 

And while he knelt, gradually the gray dawn melted into 
purple and gold. The stars went softly out. Long rays, 
like radiant spears, shot up and athwart the sky. As th© in- 


48 


THE FAIR GOD. 


dications multiplied, his hopes arose. Farther back he threw 
the hood from his brow ; the sun seemed coming clear and 
cloudless above the mountains, kindling his heart no less 
than the air and earth. 

A wide territory, wrapped in the dim light, extended be- 
neath his feet. There slept Tenochtitlan, with her shining 
temples and blazing towers, her streets and resistless nation- 
ality ; there were the four lakes, with their blue waters, their 
shores set with cities, villages and gardens ; beyond them 
lay eastern Anahuac, the princeliest jewel of the Empire. 
What with its harvests, its orchards, and its homesteads, its 
forests of oak, sycamore, and cedar, its population busy, 
happy, and faithful, contented as tillers of the soil, and brave 
as lions in time of need, it was all of Aden he had ever 
known or dreamed. 

In the southeast, above a long range of mountains, rose 
the volcanic peaks poetized by the Aztecs into “ The White 
Woman”* and “The Smoking Hill.”t Mythology had 
covered them with sanctifying faith, as, in a different age 
and more classic clime, it clothed the serene mountain of 
Thessaly. 

But the king saw little of all this beauty ; he observed 
nothing but the sun, which was rising a few degrees north 
of “ The Smoking Hill.” In all the heavens round there 
was not a fleck ; and already his heart throbbed with de- 
light, when suddenly a cloud of smoke rushed upward from 
the mountain, and commenced gathering darkly about its 
white summit. Quick to behold it, he scarcely hushed a cry 
of fear, and instinctively waved his hand, as if, by a kingly 
gesture, to stay the eruption. Slowly the vapor crept over 
the roseate sky, and, breathless and motionless, the seeker 
of the god’s mood and questioner of the Morning watched 
its progress. Across the pathway of the sun it stretched, so 


* Iztaccihnatl. 


+ Popocatepetl 


THE QUESTIONER OF THE MORNING. 


49 


that when the disk wheeled fairly above the mountain- 
range, it looked like a ball of blood. 

The king was a reader of picture-writing, and skilful in 
deducing the meaning of men from cipher and hieroglyph. 
Straightway he interpreted the phenomenon as a direful por- 
tent ; and because he came looking for omens, the idea that 
this was a message sent him expressly from the gods was 
but a right royal vanity. He drew the hood over his face 
again, and drooped his head disconsolately upon his breast. 
His mind filled with a host of gloomy thoughts. The rev- 
elation of Mualox was prophecy here confirmed, — Quet- 
zal’ was coming ! Throne, power, people, — all the glo- 
ries of his country and Empire, — he saw snatched from 
his nerveless grasp, and floating away, like the dust of the 
vaUey. 

After a while he arose to depart. One more look he gave 
the sun before descending from the roof, and shuddered at 
the sight of city, lake, valley, the cloud itself, and the sky 
above it, all colored with an ominous crimson. 

Behold ! ” he said, tremulously, to Maxtla, to-day we 
will sacrifice to Quetzal’ : how long until Quetzal’ sacrifices 
to himself H’ 

The chief cast down his eyes ; for he knew how dangerous 
it was to look on royalty humbled by fear. Then Monte- ' 
zuma shaded his face again, and left the proud old hill, with 
a sigh for its palaces and the beauty of its great cypress- 
groves. 


60 


THE FAIE GOD. 


CHAPTEE X. 


GOING TO THE COMBAT. 


S the morning advanced, the city grew fully animate. 



J \ A festal spirit was abroad, seeking display in masks, 
mimes, and processions. Jugglers performed on the street- 
corners ; dancing-girls, with tambours, and long elf-locks 
dressed in flowers, possessed themselves of the smooth side- 
walks. Very plainly, the evil omen of the morning affected 
the king more than his people. 

The day advanced clear and beautiful. In the eastern 
sky the smoke of the volcano still lingered; but the sun 
rose above it, and smiled on the valley, like a loving 
god. 

At length the tambour in the great temple sounded the 
signal of assemblage. Its deep tones, penetrating every 
recess of the town and rushing across the lake, were heard 
in the villages on the distant shores. Then, in steady cur- 
rents, the multitudes set forward for the tianguez. The 
chinampas were deserted ; hovels and palaces gave up their 
tenantry ; canoes, gay with garlands, were abandoned in the 
waveless canals. The women and children came down from 
the roofs ; from all the temples — all but the old one with 
the solitary gray tower and echoless court — poured the 
priesthood in processions, headed by chanting choirs, and 
interspersed with countless sacred symbols. Many were the 
pomps, but that of the warriors surpassed all others. March- 
ing in columns of thousands, they filled the streets with 
flashing arms and gorgeous regalia, roar of attabals and peals 
of minstrelsy. 

About the same time the royal palanquin stood at the 


GOING TO THE COMBAT. 


0 


palacG portal, engoldened, jewelled, and surmounted with a 
•panache of green plumes. Cuitlaliua, Cacaina, Maxtla, and 
the lords of Tlacopan, Tepejaca, and Cholula, with other 
nobles from the provinces far and near, were collected about 
it in waiting, sporting on their persons the wealth of princi- 
palities. When the monarch came out, they knelt, and 
every one of them placed his palm on the ground before 
him. On the last stone at the portal he stopped, and raised 
his eyes to the sky. A piece of aguave, fluttering like a 
leaf, fell so near him that he reached out his hand and 
caught it. 

“ Eead it, my lords,” he said, after a moment’s study. 

The paper contained only the picture of an eagle attacked 
by an owd, and passed from hand to hand. Intent on de- 
ciphering the writing, none thought of inquiring whether its 
coming was of design or accident. 

What does it mean, my lord Cacama ? ” asked the mon- 
arch, gravely. 

Cacama’s eyes dropped as he replied, — 

‘‘When we write of you, 0 king, we paint an eagle; 
when we write of the ’tzin Guatamo, we paint an owl.” 

“ What ! ” said the lord Cuitlahua, “ would the ’tzin attack 
his king % ” 

And the monarch looked from one to the other strangely, 
saying only, “ The owl is the device on his shield.” 

Then he entered the palanquin ; whereupon some of the 
nobles lifted it on their shoulders, and the company, in 
procession, set out for the tianguez. On the way they were 
joined by Iztlil’, the Tezcucan; and it was remarkable 
that, of them all, he was the only one silent about the 
paper. 

The Iztapalapaii street, of great width, and on both sides 
lined with gardens, palaces, and temples, was not only the 
boast of Tenochtitlan ; its beauty was told in song and story 


THE FAIR GOD. 


throughout tlie Empire. The signal of assemblage for the 
day’s great pastime found Xoli and his provincial friend 
lounging along the broad pave of the beautiful thoroughfare. 
They at once started for the tianguez. The broker was fat, 
and it was troublesome for him to keep pace with the hunter ; 
nevertheless, they overtook a party of tamanes going in the 
same direction, and bearing a palanquin richly caparisoned. 
The slaves, very sumptuously clad, proceeded slowly and 
with downcast eyes, and so steadily that the carriage had 
the onward, gliding motion of a boat. 

“ Lower, — down, boy ! See you not the green panache? ” 
whispered Xoli, half frightened. 

Too late. The Chalcan, even as he whispered, touched 
the pavement, but Hualpa remained erect : not only that ; 
he looked boldly into the eyes of the occupants of the palan- 
quin, — two women, whose beauty shone upon him like a sud- 
den light. Then he bent his head, and his heart closed upon 
the recollection of what he saw so that it never escaped. The 
picture was of a girl, almost a woman, laughing ; opposite 
her, and rather in the shade of the fringed curtain, one older, 
though young, and grave and stately ; her hair black, her 
face oval, her eyes large and lustrous. To her he made his 
involuntary obeisance. Afterwards she reminded many a 
Spaniard of the dark-eyed hermosura with whom he had 
left love-tokens in his native land. 

“They are the king’s daughters, the princesses Tula 
and Xenetzin,” said Xoli, when fairly past the carriage. 
“ And as you have just come up from the country, listen. 
Green is the royal color, and belongs to the king’s family ; 
and wherever met, in the city or on the lake, the people 
salute it. Though what they meet be but a green feather in 
a slave’s hand, they salute. Remember the lesson. By the 
way, the gossips say that Guatamozin will marry Tula, the 
eldest one.” 


GOING TO THE COMBAT. 


5 . 


“ She is very beautiful,” said the hunter, as to himself, 
and slackening his steps. 

“ Are you mad 'i ” cried the broker, seizing his arm. 
“Would you bring the patrol upon us ? They are not for 
such as you. Come on. It may be we can get seats to see 
the king and his whole household.” 

At the entrance to the arena there was a press which the 
police could hardly control. In the midst of it, Xoli pulled 
his companion to one side, saying, “ The king comes ! Let 
us under the staging here until he passes.” 

They found themselves, then, close by the spears, which, 
planted in the ground, upheld the shields of the combatants ; 
and when the Tihuancan heard the people, as they streamed 
in, cheer the champions of the god, he grieved sorely that he 
was not one of them. 

The heralds then came up, clearing the way ; and aU there- 
about knelt, and so received the monarch. He stopped to 
inspect the shields ; for in all his realm there was not one 
better versed in its heraldry. A diadem, not unlike the 
papal tiara, crowned his head ; his tunic and cloak were of 
the skins of green humming-birds brilliantly iridescent ; a 
rope of pearls large as grapes hung, many times doubled, from 
his neck down over his breast ; his sandals and sandal- 
thongs were embossed with gold, and besides anklets of 
massive gold, cuishes of the same metal guarded his legs from 
knee to anklet. Save the transparent, lustrous gray of the 
pearls, his dress was of the two colors, green and yellow, and 
the effect was indescribably royal ; yet all the bravery of his 
trappings could not hide from Hualpa, beholding him for the 
first time, that, like any common soul, he was suffering from 
some trouble of mind. 

“ So, Cacama,” he said, pleasantly, after a look at the 
gages, “ your brother has a mind to make peace with the goda 
It is well ! ” 


o4 


THE FAIR GOD. 


And thereupon Iztlil’ himself stepped out and knelt before 
him in battle array, the javelin in his hand, and bow, quiver, 
and maquahuitl at his back ; and in his homage the floating 
feathers of his helm brushed the dust from the royal feet. 

“ It is well ! ” repeated the king, smiling. “ But, son of 
my friend, where are your comrades ] ” 

Tlahua, the Otompan, and the young Cholulan, equipped 
like Iztlil*, rendered their homage also. Over their heads he 
extended his hands, and said, softly, “ They who love the 
gods, the gods love. Put your trust in them, 0 my children] 
And upon you be their blessing 1 ” 

And already he had passed the spears : one gage was for^ 
gotten, one combatant unblessed. Suddenly he looked back. 

‘‘ Whose shield is that, my lords ? ” 

All eyes rested upon the plain gage, but no one replied. 

“ Who is he that thus mocks the holy cause of Quetzal’ ] 
Go, Maxtla, and bring him to me ! ” 

Then outspake Iztlil’. 

“ The shield is Guatamozin’s. Last night he challenged 
me to this combat, and he is not here. 0 king, the owl 
may be looking for the eagle.” 

A moment the sadly serene countenance of the monarch 
knit and flushed as from a passing pain ; a moment he re- 
garded the Tezcucan. Then he turned to the shields of the 
Othmies and Tlascalans. 

‘‘ They are a sturdy foe, and I warrant will fight hard,” he 
said, quietly. “ But such victims are the delight of the gods. 
Pail me not, 0 children ! ” 

When the Tihuancan and his chaperone climbed half-way 
to the upper row of seats, in the quarter assigned to the peo- 
ple, the former was amazed. He looked down on a circular 
arena, strewn with white sand from the lake, and large enough 
for manoeuvring half a thousand men. It was bounded by 
a rope, outside of which was a broad margin crowded with 


GOING TO THE COMBAT. 


55 


rank on rank of common soldiery, whose shields were ar- 
ranged before them like a wall impervious to a glancing 
arrow. Back from the arena extended the staging, rising 
gradually seat above seat, platform above platform, until the 
whole area of the tianguez was occupied. 

“ Is the king a magician, that he can do this thing in a 
single night i ” asked Hualpa. 

Xoli laughed. “ He has done many things much greater. 
The timbers you see were wrought long ago, and have been 
lying in the temples ; the tamanes had only to bring them 
out and put them together.” 

In the east there was a platform, carpeted, furnished with 
lounges, and protected from the sun by a red canopy ; broad 
passages of entrance separated it from the ruder structure 
erected for the commonalty ; it was also the highest of the 
platforms, so that its occupants could overlook the whole 
amphitheatre. This lordlier preparation belonged to the king, 
his household and nobles. So, besides his wives and daugh- 
ters, under the red canopy sat the three hundred women of 
his harem, — ^ft testimony that Oneptali.?m dwelt not (ilnpe 
i n the sky and palm-trees of the valley. 

As remarked, the margin around the arena belonged to the 
soldiery ; the citizens had seats in the north and south ; 
while the priesthood, superior to either of them in sanctity 
of character, sat aloof in the west, also screened by a canopy. 
And, as the celebration was regarded in the light of a relig- 
ious exercise, not only did women crowd the place, but 
mothers brought their children, that, from the examples of 
the arena, they might learn to be warriors. 

Upon the appearance of the monarch there was a perfect 
calm. Standing awhile by his couch, he looked over the 
scene ; and not often has royal vision been better filled with 
all that constitutes royalty. Opposite him he saw the servi- 
tors of his religion ; at his feet were his warriors and people 


56 


THE FAIR GOD. 


almost innumerable. When, at last, the minstrels of the 
soldiery poured their wild music over the theatre, he thrilled 
with the ecstasy of power. 

The champions for the god then came in; and as they 
strode across to the western side of the arena the air was 
filled with plaudits and flying garlands ; but hardly was the 
welcome ended before there was a great hum and stir, as the 
spectators asked each other why the fourth combatant came 
not with the others. 

“ The one with the bright panachey asked you 1 That is 
Iztlir, the Tezcucan,” said Xoli. 

Is he not too fine 1 ” 

“ Xo. Only think of the friends the glitter has made birn 
among the women and children.” 

The Chalcan laughed heartily at the cynicism. 

“ And the broad-shouldered fellow now fixing the thongs 
of his shield % ” 

“ The Otompan, — a good warrior. They say he goes to 
battle with the will a girl goes to a feast. The other is the 
Cholulan ; he has his renown to win, and is too young.” 

“ But he may have other qualities,” suggested Hualpa. 

I have heard it said that, in a battle of arrows, a quick eye 
is better than a strong arm.” 

The broker yawned. Well, I like not those Cholulans. 
They are proud; they scorn the other nations, even the 
Aztecs. Probably it is well they are better priests than 
soldiers. Under the red canopy yonder I see his father.” 

“ Listen, good Xoli. I hear the people talking about the 
’tzin 1 Where can he be % ” 

Just then within the wall of shields there came a warrior, 
who strode swiftly toward the solitary gage. His array was 
less splendid than his comrades’; his helm was of plain 
leather without ornament ; his escaupil was secured by a 
simple loop : yet the people knew him, and shouted ; and 


GOING TO THE COMBAT. 


57 


when he took down the plain shield and fixed it to his arm, 
the approbation of the common soldiery arose like a storm. 
As they bore such shields to battle, he became, as it were, 
their peculiar representative. It was Guatamozin. 

And under the royal canopy there was rapid exchange of 
whispers and looks ; every mind reverted to the paper 
dropped so mysteriously into the king’s hand at the palace 
door j and some there were, acuter than the rest, who saw 
corroboration of the meaning given the writing in the fact 
that the shield the *tzin now chose was without the owl, his 
usual device. Whether the monarch himself was one of 
them might not be said ; his face was as impassive as 
bronze. 

Next, the Othmies and Tlascalans, dignified into common 
challengers of the proudest chiefs of Tenochtitlan, were con- 
ducted into the arena. 

The Tlascalans were strong men used to battle ; and 
though, like their companions in danger, at first bewildered 
by the sudden introduction to so vast a multitude, they 
became quickly inured to the situation. Of the Oth- 
mies, a more promising pair of gladiators never exhibited 
before a Eoman audience. The father was past the prime of 
life, but erect, broad-shouldered, and of unusual dignity; 
the son was slighter, and not so tall, but his limbs were 
round and beautiful, and he looked as if he might outleap 
an antelope. The people were delighted, and cheered the 
chaUengers with scarcely less heartiness than their own 
champions. Still, the younger Othmi appeared hesitant, 
and, when the clamor somewhat abated, the sire touched 
him, and said, — 

“ Does my boy dream 1 What voice is in his ear that his 
heart is so melted ? Awake 1 the shield is on the arm of 
the foe.” 

The young man aroused. “ I saw the sun on the green 


58 


THE FAIR GOD. 


lulls of Othmi. But see!” he said, proudly, and with 
flashing eyes, “there is no weakness in the dreamer’s arm.” 
And with the words, he seized a how at his feet, fitted an 
arrow upon the cord, and, drawing full to the head, sent 
it cleaving the sunshine far above them. Every eye fol- 
lowed its flight but his own. “The arm, 0 chief, is not 
stronger than the heart,” he added, carelessly dropping the 
bow. 

The old warrior gazed at him tenderly ; but as that was 
no time for the indulgence of affection, he turned to the 
Tlascalans, and said, “We must be ready : let us arm.” 

Each donned a leathern helm, and wrapped himself in a 
quilted escaupil ; each buckled the shield on his arm, and 
tightened the thongs of his sandals. Their arms lay at 
hand. 

Such were the preparations for the combat, such the 
combatants. And as the foemen faced each other, awaiting 
the signal for the mortal strife, I fancy no Christian has 
seen anything more beautiful than the theatre. Among the 
faces the gaze swam as in a sea ; the gleaming of arms and 
ornaments was bewildering ; while the diversity of colors in 
the costumes of the vast audience was without comparison. 
With the exception of the arena, the royal platform was 
the cynosure. Behind the king, with a shield faced with 
silver, stood Maxtla, vigilant against treachery or despair. 
The array of nobles about the couch was imperial ; and 
what with them, and the dark-eyed beauties of his house- 
hold, and the canopy tingeing the air and softly undulating 
above him, and the mighty congregation of subjects at his 
feet, it was with Montezuma like a revival of the glory of 
the Hystaspes. Yet the presence of his power but increased 
his gloom ; in a short time he heard no music and saw no 
splendor ; everything reminded him of the last picture on 
the western wall of the golden chamber. 


THE COMBAT. 


59 


CHAPTEE XI. 

THE COMBAT. 

T he cEampions for the god drew themselves up in the 
west, while their challengers occupied the east of the 
arena. This position of parties was the subject of much 
speculation with the spectators, who saw it might prove a 
point of great importance if the engagement assumed the 
form of single combats. 

Considering age and appearance, the Tlascalans were ad- 
judged most dangerous of the challengers, — a palm readily- 
awarded to the Tezcucan and the 'tzin on their side. The 
common opinion held also, that the Cholulan, the youngest 
and least experienced of the Aztecs, should have been the 
antagonist of the elder Othmi, whose \dgor was presumed 
to be affected by his age ; as it was, that combat belonged to 
Tlahua, the Otompan, while the younger Othmi confronted 
the Cholulan. 

And now the theatre grew profoundly stiU with expec- 
tancy. 

The day grows old. Let the signal be given.” And so 
saying, the king waved his hand, and sunk indolently back 
upon his couch. 

A moment after there was a burst of martial symphony, 
and the combat began. 

It was opened with arrows ; and to determine, if possi- 
ble, the comparative skill of the combatants, the spectators 
watched the commencement -with closest attention. The 
younger Othmi sent his missile straight into the shield of 
the Cholulan, who, from precipitation probably, was not so 
successful. The elder Othmi and his antagonist each planted 


60 


THE FAIR GOD. 


his arrow fairly, as did Iztlir and the Tlascalans. But a 
great outcry of applause attended Guatamozin, when his 
holt, flying across the space, buried its barb in the crest of 
his adversary. A score of feathers, shorn away, floated 
slowly to the sand. 

“ It was well dome j by Our Mother, it was well done !” 
murmured Hualpa. 

“ Wait ! ” said the Chalcan patronizingly. “ Wait till 
they come to the maquahuitl ! ” 

Quite a number of arrows were thus interchanged by the 
parties without effect, as they were always dexterously inter- 
cepted. The passage was but the preluding skirmish, partici- 
pated in by aU but the ’tzin, who, after his first shot, stood 
a little apart from his comrades, and, resting his long bow 
on the ground, watched the trial with apparent indifference. 
Like the Chalcan, he seemed to regard it as play ; and the 
populace after a while fell into the same opinion : there was 
not enough danger to fully interest them. So there began to 
arise murmurs and cries, which the Cholulan was the first to 
observe and interpret. Under an impulse which had rela- 
tion, probably, to his first failure, he resolved to avail him- 
self of the growing feeling. Throwing down his bow, he 
seized the maquahuitl at his back, and, without a word to his 
friends, started impetuously across the arena. The peril was 
great, for every foeman at once turned his arrow against him. 

Then the Tzin stirred himself. “ The boy is mad, and will 
die if we do not go with him,” he said ; and already his 
foot was advanced to foUow, when the young Othmi sprang 
forward from the other side to meet the Cholulan. 

The eagerness lest an incident should be lost became 
intense ; even the king sat up to see the duel. The theatre 
rang with cries of encouragement, — none, however, so cheery 
as that of the elder Othmi, whose feelings of paternity were, 
for the moment, lost in his passion of warrior. 


THE COMBAT. 


61 


“ On, boy ! Eemember the green hills, and the hammock 
by the stream. Strike hard, strike hard ! ” 

The combatants were apparently well matched, being 
about equal in height and age ; both brandished the maqua- 
huitl, the deadliest weapon known to their wars. Wielded 
by both hands and swung high above the head, its blades 
of glass generally clove their way to the life. About mid-^ 
way the arena the foemen met. At the instant of contact 
the Cholulan brought a downward blow, weU aimed, at the 
head of his antagonist; but the lithe Othmi, though at 
full speed, swerved like a bird on the wing. A great 
shout attested the appreciation of the audience. The Cho- 
lulan wheeled, with his weapon uplifted for another blow ; 
the action called his left arm into play, and drew his shield 
from its guard. The Othmi saw the advantage. One step 
he took nearer, and then, with a sweep of his arm and an 
upward stroke, he drove every blade deep into the side of 
his enemy. The lifted weapon dropped in its half-finished 
circle, the shield flew wildly up, and, with a groan, the vic- 
tim fell heavily to the sand, struggled once to rise, fell 
back again, and his battles were ended forever. A cry of 
anguish went out from under the royal canopy. 

“ Hark ! " cried Xoli. “ Did you hear the old Cholulan 1 
See ! They are leading him from the platform ! ” 

Except that cry, however, not a voice was heard ; from 
rising apprehension as to the result of the combat, or touched 
by a passing sympathy for the early death, the multitude was 
perfectly hushed. 

“ That was a brave blow, Xoli ; but let him beware now ! ” 
said Hualpa, excitedly. 

And in expectation of instant vengeance, all eyes watched 
the Othmi. Around the arena he glanced, then back to his 
friends. Eetreat would forfeit the honor gained : death 
was preferable. So he knelt upon the breast of his enemy. 


62 


THE FAIR GOD. 


and, setting his shield before him, waited sternly and in 
silence the result. And Iztlil’ and Tlahua launched their 
arrows at him in quick succession, but Guatamozin was as 
indifferent as ever. 

“ What ails the ’tzin 1 ” said Maxtla to the king. “ The 
Othmi is at his mercy.” 

The monarch deigned no reply. 

The spirit of the old Othmi rose. On the sand behind 
him, prepared for service, was a dart with three points of 
copper, and a long cord by which to recover it when once 
thrown. Catching the weapon up, and shouting, I am com- 
ing, I am coming ! ” he ran to avert or share the danger. 
The space to be crossed was inconsiderable, yet such his 
animation that, as he ran, he poised the dart, and exposed 
his hand above the shield. The Tzin raised his bow, and 
let the arrow fly. It struck right amongst the supple joints 
of the veteran’s wrist. The unhappy man stopped bewil- 
dered j over the theatre he looked, then at the wound ; in 
despair he tore the shaft out with his teeth, and rushed on 
till he reached the boy. 

The outburst of acclamation shook the theatre. 

To have seen such archery, Xoli, were worth all the years 
of a hunter’s life ! ” said Hualpa. 

• The Chalcan smiled like a connoisseur, and replied, “ It is 
nothing. Wait ! ” 

And now the combat again presented a show of equality. 
The advantage, if there was any, was thought to be with the 
Aztecs, since the loss of the Cholulan was not to be weighed 
against the disability of the Othmi. Thus the populace were 
released from apprehension, without any abatement of in- 
terest ; indeed, the excitement increased, for there was a 
promise of change in the character of the contest ; from 
quiet archery was growing bloody action. 

The Tlascalans, alive to the necessity of supporting theii 


THE COMBAT. 


63 


friends, advanced to where the Cholnlan lay, but more cau- 
tiously. When they were come up, the Othmies both arose, 
and calmly perfected the front. The astonishment at this 
was very great. 

Brave fellow ! He is worth ten live Cholulans ! ” said 
Xoli. “ But now look, boy ! The challengers have advanced 
half-way ; the Aztecs must meet them.” 

The conjecture was speedily verified. Iztlil’ had, in fact, 
ill brooked the superior skill, or better fortune, of the ’tzin ; 
the applause of the populace had been worse than wounds to 
his jealous heart. Till this time, however, he had restrained 
his passion ; now the foe were ranged as if challenging attack : 
he threw away his useless bow, and laid his hand on his 
maquahuitl. 

“ It is not for an Aztec god that we are fighting, 0 com- 
rade ! ” he cried to Tlahua. It is for ourselves. Come, let 
us show yon king a better war ! ” 

And without waiting, he set on. The Otompan followed, 
leaving the Tzin alone. The call had not been to him, and 
as he was fighting for the god, and the Tezcucan for himself, 
he merely placed another arrow on his bow, and observed the 
attack. 

Leaving the Otompan to engage the Othmies, the fierce 
Tezcucan assaulted the Tlascalans, an encounter in whioh 
there was no equality ; but the eyes of Tenochtitlan were 
upon him, and at his back was a hated rival. His antago- 
nists each sent an arrow to meet him ; but, as he skilfully 
caught them on his shield, they, too, betook themselves to 
the maquahuitl. Eight on he kept, imtil his shield struck 
theirs; it was gallantly done, and won a furious outburst 
from the people. Again Montezuma sat up, momentarily 
animated. 

“ Ah, my lord Cacama ! ” he said, “ if your brother’s love 
were but equal to his courage, I would give him an army.” 


64 


THE FAIR GOD. 


All the gods forfend ! ” replied the jealous prince. “ The 
viper would recover his fangs.” 

The speed with which he went was all that saved Iztlil’ 
from the blades of the Tlascalans. Striking no blow himself, 
he strove to make way between them, and get behind, 
so that, facing about to repel his returning onset, their 
backs would be to the ’tzin. But they were wary, and did 
not yield. As they pushed against him, one, dropping his 
more cumbrous weapon, struck him in the breast with a cop- 
per knife. The blow was distinctly seen by the spectators. 

Hualpa started from his seat. “ He has it ; they will 
finish him now! Ho, he recovers. Our Mother, what a 
blow I ” 

The Tezcucan disengaged himself, and, maddened by the 
blood that began to flow down his quilted armor, as- 
saulted furiously. He was strong, quick of eye, and skil- 
ful ; the blades of his weapon gleamed in circles around 
his head, and resounded against the shields. At length a 
desperate blow beat down the guard of one of the Tlascalans ; 
ere it could be recovered, or Iztlil’ avail himseK of the advan- 
tage, there came a sharp whirring through the air, and an 
arrow from the ’tzin pierced to the warrior’s heart. Up he 
leaped, dead before he touched the sand. Again Iztlil’ heard 
the acclamation of his rival. Without a pause, he rushed 
upon the surviving Tlascalan, as if to bear him down by 
stormy dint. 

Meantime, the combat of Tlahua, the Otompan, was not 
without its difficulties, since it was not singly with the young 
Othmi. 

“ Mictlan take the old man ! ” cried the lord Cuitlahua, 
bending from his seat. I thought him done for ; but, see ! 
he defends, the other fights.” 

And so it was. The Otompan struck hard, but was dis- 
tracted by the tactics of his foemen : if he aimed at the 


THE COMBAT. 


65 


younger, both their shields warded the blow ; if he assaulted 
the elder, he was in turn attacked by the younger ; and so, 
without advantage to either, their strife continued until the 
fall of the Tlascalan. Then, inspired by despairing valor, 
the boy threw down his maquahuitl, and endeavored to push 
aside the Otompan’s shield. Once within its guard, the 
knife would finish the contest. Tlahua retreated ; but the 
foe clung to him, — one wrenching at his shield, the other in- 
tercepting his blows, and both carefully avoiding the deadly 
archery of the ’tzin, who, seeing the extremity of the danger, 
started to the rescue. All the people shouted, “ The ’tzin, 
the ’tzin ! ” Xoli burst into ecstasy, and clapped his hands. 
“ There he goes ! Now look for something ! ” 

The rescuer went as a swift wind ; but the clamor had 
been as a warning to the young Othmi. By a great effort he 
tore away the Otompan’s shield. In vain the latter struggled. 
There was a flash, sharp, vivid, like the sparkle of the sun 
upon restless waters. Then his head drooped forward, 
and he staggered blindly. Once only the death-stroke was 
repeated ; and so still was the multitude that the dull sound 
of the knife driving home was heard. The ’tzin was too 
late. 

The prospect for the Aztecs was now gloomy. The Cholu- 
lan and Otompan were dead ; the Tezcucan, wounded and 
bleeding, was engaged in a doubtful struggle with the Tlas- 
calan ; the ’tzin was the last hope of his party. Upon him 
devolved the fight with the Othmies. In the interest thus 
excited Iztlil’s battle was forgotten. 

Twice had the younger Othmi been victor, and still he was 
scathless. Instead of the maquahuitl, he was now armed 
with the javelin, which, while effective as a dart, was exceb 
lent to repel assault. 

From the crowded seats of the theatre not a sound was 
heard. At no time had the excitement risen to such a pitch. 


66 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Breathless and motionless, the spectators awaited the advance 
of the ’tzin. He was, as I have said, a general favorite, be- 
loved by priest and citizen, and with the wild soldiery an 
object of rude idolatry. And if, under the royal canopy 
there were eyes that looked not lovingly upon him, there 
were lips there murmuring soft words of prayer for his 
success. 

When within a few steps of the waiting Othmies, he 
halted. They glared at him an instant in silence ; then the 
old chief said tauntingly, and loud enough to be heard above 
the noise of the conflict at his side, — 

“ A woman may wield a bow, and from a distance slay a 
warrior ; but the maquahuitl is heavy in the hand of the 
coward, looking in the face of his foeman.” 

The Aztec made no answer ; he was familiar with the 
wile. Looking at the speaker as if against him he intended 
his first attack, with right hand back he swung the heavy 
weapon above his shoulder till it sung in quickening circles ; 
when its force was fully collected, he suddenly hurled it 
from him. The old Othmi crouched low behind his shield : 
but his was not the form in the Tzin’s eyes ; for right in the 
centre of the young victor’s guard the flying danger struck. 
Hor arm nor shield might bar its way. The boy was lifted 
sheer above the body of the Otompan, and driven backward 
as if shot from a catapult. 

Guatamozin advanced no further. A thrust of his javelin 
would have disposed of the old Othmi, now unarmed and help- 
less. The acclamation of the audience, in which was blent 
the shrill voices of women, failed to arouse his passion. 

The sturdy chief arose from his crouching ; he looked for the 
boy to whom he had so lately spoken of home ; he saw him 
lying outstretched, his face in the sand, and his shield, so 
often bound with wreaths and garlands, twain-broken beneath 
him ; and his will, that in the fight had been tougher than 


THE COMBAT. 


67 


the gold of his bracelets, gave way ; forgetful of all else, 
he ran, and, with a great cry, threw himself upon the body. 

The Chalcan was as exultant as if the achievement had 
been his own. Even the prouder souls under the red canopy 
yielded their tardy praise ; only the king was silent. 

As none now remained of the challengers but the Tlascalan 
occupied with Iztlil’, — none whom he might in honor engage, 
— Guatamozin moved away from the Othmies ; and as he 
went, once he allowed his glance to wander to the royal plat- 
form, but with thought of love, not wrong. 

The attention of the people was again directed to the 
combat of the Tezcucan. The death of his comrades nowise 
daunted the Tlascalan; he rather struck the harder for 
revenge ; his shield was racked, the feathers in his crest 
torn away, while the blades were red with his blood. Still 
it fared hut ill with IztUr fighting for himself. His wound 
in the breast bled freely, and his equipments were in no bet- 
ter plight than his antagonist’s. The struggle was that of 
the hewing and hacking which, whether giving or taking, 
soon exhausts the strongest frame. At last, faint with loss 
of blood, he went down. The Tlascalan attempted to strike 
a final blow, but darkness rushed upon him; he staggered, 
the blades sunk into the -sand, and he rolled beside his 
enemy. 

With that the combat was done. The challengers might 
not behold their “ land of bread ” again ; nevermore for 
them was hammock by the stream or echo of tambour 
amongst the hills. 

And all the multitude arose and gave way to their rejoic- 
ing ; they embraced each other, and shouted and sang ; the 
pahas waved their ensigns, and the soldiers saluted with 
voice and pealing shells ; and up to the sun ascended the 
name of Quetzal’ with form and circumstance to soften the 
mood of the most demanding god; but all the time the 


68 


THE FAIE GOD. 


audience saw only the fortunate hero, standing so calmly before 
them, the dead at his feet, and the golden light about him. 

And the king was happy as the rest, and talked gayly, 
caring little for the living or the dead. The combat was 
over, and Quetzal’ not come. Mualox was a madman, not 
a prophet; the Aztecs had won, and the god was propiti- 
ated : so the questioner of the Morning flattered himself ! 

^‘If the Othmi cannot fight, he can serve for sacrifice. 
Let him be removed. And the dead — But hold ! ” he cried, 
and his cheeks blanched with mortal pallor. “ Who comes 
yonder 1 Look to the arena, — nay, to the people ! By 
my father’s ashes, the paha shall perish ! White hairs and 
prophet’s gifts shall not save him.” 

While the king was speaking, Mualox, the keeper of the 
temple, rushed within the wall of shields. His dress was 
disordered, and he was bareheaded and unsandalled. Over 
his shoulders and down his breast flowed his hair and beard, 
tangled and unkempt, wavy as a billow and white as the 
foam. Excitement flashed from every feature ; and far as 
his vision ranged, — in every quarter, on every platform, — 
in the blood of others he kindled his own unwonted passion. 

CHAPTER XII. 

MUALOX AND HIS WORLD. 

M ualox, after the departure of the king and Tzin, 
ascended the tower of the old Cfl, and remained there 
all night, stooped beside the sacred fire, sorrowing and dream- 
ing, hearkening to the voices of the city, or watching the mild- 
eyed stars. So the morning found him. He, too, beheld 
the coming of the sun, and trembled when the Smoking H jfl 


MUALOX AND HIS WORLD. 


69 


rfent up its cloud. Then he heaped fresh fagots on the 
dying fire, and went down to the court-yard. It was the 
hour when in all the other temples worshippers came to pray. 

He took a lighted lamp from a table in his cell, and fol- 
lowed a passage on deeper into the building. The way, like 
that to the golden chamber, was intricate and bewildering. 
Before a door at the foot of a flight of steps he stopped. A 
number of earthen jars and ovens stood near; while from 
the room to which the door gave entrance there came a strong, 
savory perfume, very grateful to the sense of a hungry man. 
Here was the kitchen of the ancient house. The paba 
went in. 

This was on a level with the water of the canal at the 
south base ; and when the good man came out, and descended 
another stairway, he was in a hall, which, though below the 
canal, was dusty and perfectly dry. Down the hall further 
he came to a doorway in the floor, or rather an apeHme, 
which had at one time been covered and hidden by a pon- 
derous flag-stone yet lying close by. A rope ladder was coiled 
up on the stone. Flinging the ladder through the door, he 
heard it rattle on the floor beneath ; then he stooped, and 
called, — 

“ Tecetl, Tecetl ! ” 

Ho one replied. He repeated the call. 

“ Poor child ! She is asleep,” he said, in a low voice. 
“ I will go down without her. ” 

Leaving the lamp above, he committed himself to the 
unsteady rope, like one accustomed to it. Below all was 
darkness ; but, pushing boldly on, he suddenly flung aside a 
curtain which had small silver bells in the fringing ; and, 

' ushered by the tiny ringing, he stepped into a chamber 
lighted and full of beauty, — a grotto carven with infinite 
labor from the bed-rock of the laka 

And here, in the day mourned by the paba, when the 


70 


THE FAIR GOD. 


temple was honored, and its god had worshippers, and 
the name of Quetzal’ was second to no other, not even 
Huitzil’s, must have been held the secret conclaves of 
the priesthood, — so great were the dimensions of the cham- 
ber, and so far was it below the roll of waters. But now it 
might be a place for dwelling, or for thought and dreaming, 
or for pleasure, or in which the eaters of the African lotus 
might spend their hours and days of semi-consciousness 
soimding of a life earthly yet purely spiritual. There were 
long aisles for walking, and couches for rest ; there were 
pictures, flowers, and a fountain; the walls and ceiling 
glowed with frescoing ; and wherever the eye turned it rested 
upon some cunning device intended to instruct, gladden, 
comfort, and content. Lamplight streamed into every corner, 
ill supplying the perfect sunshine, yet serving its grand pur- 
pose. The effect was more than beautiful. The world above 
was counterfeited, so that one ignorant of the original and 
dwelling in the counterfeit could have been happy aU his 
life long. Scarcely is it too much to say of the master who 
designed and finished the grotto, tliat, could he have borrowed 
the materials of nature, he had the taste and genius to set a 
star with the variety and harmony that mark the setting of 
the earth’s surface, and of themselves prove its Creator 
divine. 

In the enchantment of the place there was a peculiarity 
indicative of a purpose higher than mere enjoyment, and 
that was the total absence of humanity in the host of things 
visible. Painted on the ceiling and walls were animals of 
almost every kind common to the clime ; birds of wondrous 
plumage darted hither and thither, twittering and singing ; 
there, also, were flowers the fairest and most fragrant, and 
orange and laurel shrubs, and pines and cedars and oaks, and 
other trees of the forest, dwarfed, and arranged for conven- 
ient carriage to tlie azoteas ; in the pictures, moreover, were 


MUALOX AND HIS WORLD. 


71 


the objects most remarkable in the face of nature, — rivers, 
woods, plains, mountains, oceans, the heavens in storm and 
calm ; but nowhere was the picture of man, woman, or child. 
In the frescoing were houses and temples, grouped as in 
hamlets and cities, or standing alone on a river’s bank, or in 
the shadow of great trees ; but of their habitants and build- 
ers there was not a trace. In fine, the knowledge there 
taught was that of a singular book. A mind receiving 
impressions, like a child’s, would be carried by it far enough 
in the progressive education of life to form vivid ideas of the 
world, and yet be left in a dream of unintelligence to people 
it with fairies, angels, or gods. Almost everything had there 
a representation but humanity, the brightest fallen nature. 

Mualox entered as one habituated to the chamber. The 
air was soft, balmy, and pleasant, and the illumination mel- 
lowed, as if the morning were shut out by curtains of gos- 
samer - tinted with roses and gold. Near the centre of the 
room he came to a fountain of water crystal clear and in full 
play, the jet shooting from a sculptured stone up almost to 
the ceiling. Around it were tables, ottomans, couches, and 
things of vertu, such as would have adorned the palace ; 
there, also, were vases of flowers, cuUed and growing, and of 
such color and perfume as would have been estimable in 
Cholula, and musical instrument, and pencils and paints. 

It was hardly possible that this conception, so like the 
Eestful World of Brahma, should be without its angel ; for 
the atmosphere and all were for a spirit of earth or heaven 
softer than man’s. And by the fountain it was, — a soul 
fresh and pure as the laughing water. 

The girl of whom I speak was asleep. Her head lay 
upon a cushion ; over the face, clear and almost white, shone 
a lambent transparency, which might have been the reflec- 
tion of the sparkling water. The garments gathered close 
about her did not conceal the delicacy and childlike grace 


72 


THE FAIR GOD. 


of her form. One foot was exposed, and it was bare, small, 
and nearly lost in the tufted mattress of her couch. Under 
a profusion of dark hair, covering the cushion like the floss 
of silk, lay an arm ; a hand, dimpled and soft, rested lightly 
on her breast. The slumber was very deep, giving the face 
the expression of dreamless repose, with the promise of 
health and happiness upon waking. 

The paba approached her tenderly, and knelt down. His 
face was full of holy afiection. He bent his cheek close to 
her parted bps, listening to her breathing. He brought the 
straying locks back, and laid them across her neck. How 
and then a bird came and hghted on the table, and he waved 
his mantle to scare it away. And when the voice of the 
fountain seemed, under an increased pulsation of the water, 
to grow louder, he looked around, frowning lest it might dis- 
turb her. She slept on, his love about her like a silent prayer 
that has found its consummation in perfect peace. 

And as he knelt, he became sad and thoughtful. The 
events that were to come, and his faith in their coming, 
were as actual sorrows. His reflections were like a plea ad- 
dressed to his conscience. 

‘‘ God pardon me, if, after all, I should be mistaken ! The 
wrong would be so very great as to bar me from the Sun. 
Is any vanity like that which makes sorrows for our fellows ? 
And such is not only the vanity of the warrior, and that of 
the ruler of tribes ; sometimes it is of the priests who go 
into the temples thinking of things that do not pertain to 
the gods. What if mine were such 1 

“ The holy Quetzal knows that I intended to be kind to 
the child. I thought my knowledge greater than that of 
ordinary mortals ; I thought it moved in fields where only 
the gods walk, sowing wisdom. The same vanity, taking 
words, told me, ‘ Look up ! There is no abyss between you 
and the gods ; they cannot make themselves of the dust, 


MUALOX AND HIS WORLD. 


73 


but you can reach their summit almost a god.’ And I 
labored, seeking the principles that would accomplish my 
dream, if such it were. Heaven forgive me, but I once 
thought I had found them ! Other men looking out on 
creation could see nothing but Wisdom — Wisdom every- 
where ; but I looked with a stronger vision, and wherever 
there was a trace of infinite Wisdom, there was also for me 
an infinite Will. 

“Here were the principles, but they were not enough. 
Something said to me, ‘ What were the Wisdom and Will 
of the gods without subjects ? ’ It was a great idea : I 
thought I stood almost upon the summit ! 

“ And I set about building me a world. I took the treas- 
ure of Quetzal’, and collected these marvels, and bought me 
the labor of art. Weavers, florists, painters, masons, — all 
toiled for me. Gold, labor, and time are here, — there is 
little beauty without them. Here is my world,” he said 
aloud, glancing around the great haU. 

“ I had my world ; next I wanted a subject for my will. 
But where to go? Not among men, — alas, they are their 
own slaves ! One day I stood in the tianguez where a 
woman was being sold. A baby in her arms smiled, it 
might have been at the sunshine, it might have been 
at me. The mother said, ‘Buy.’ A light flashed upon 
me — I bought you, my poor child. Men say of the 
bud. It will be a rose, and of the plant. It will be a 
tree j you were so young then that I said, ‘ It will be a 
mind.’ And into my world I brought you, thinking, as I 
had made it, so I would make a subject. This, I told you, 
was your birthplace ; and here passed your infancy and 
childhood ; here you have dwelt. Your cheeks are pale, my 
little one, but full and fresh ; your breath is sweet as the air 
above a garden j and you have grown in beauty, knowing 
nothing living but the birds and me. My will has a sub- 
4 


74 


THE FAIR GOD. 


ject, 0 Tecetl, and my heart a child. And judge me, 
holy Quetzal’, if I have not tried to make her happy ! I 
have given her knowledge of everything but humanity, and 
ignorance of that is happiness. My world has thus far been a 
heaven to her ; her dreams have been of it ; I am its god ! ” 
And yet unwilling to disturb her slumber, Mualox arose, 
and walked away. 


CHAPTEB Xni. 

THE SEARCH FOR QUETZAL’. 

B y and by he returned, and standing by the couch, 
passed his hand several times above her face. Silent 
as the movements were, she awoke, and threw her arms 
around his neck. 

“You have been gone a long while,” she said, in a child- 
ish voice. “ I waited for you ; but the lamps burned down 
low, and the shadows, from their hiding among the bushes, 
came creeping in upon the fountain, and I slept.” 

“ I saw you,” he answered, playing with her hair. “ I 
saw you; I always see you.” 

“ I tried to paint the fountain,” she went on ; “ but when 
I watched the water to catch its colors, I thought its singing 
changed to voices, and, listening to them, they stole my 
thoughts away. Then I tried to blend my voice with them, 
and sing as they sung ; but whenever mine sank low enough, 
it seemed sad, while they went on gayer and more ringing 
than ever. I can paint the flowers, but not the water ; 1 
can sing with the birds, but not with the fountain. But you 
promised to call me, — that you would always call me.” 

“ I knew you were asleep.” 

“ But you had only to think to waken me.” 


THE SEARCH FOR QUETZAL’. 


75 


He smiled at this acknowledgment of the power of his 
will. Just then a hell sounded faintly through the chamber ; 
hastening away, he shortly returned with breakfast on a great 
shell waiter ; there were maize bread and honey, quails and 
chocolate, figs and oranges. Placing them on a table, he 
rolled up an ottoman for the girl ; and, though she talked 
much and lightly, the meal was soon over. Then he com- 
posed himself upon the couch, and in the quiet, unbroken 
save by Tecetl, forgot the night and its incidents. 

His rest was calm ; when he awoke, she was sitting by the 
basin of the fountain talking to her birds gleefully as a child. 
She had given them names, words more of sound pleasant to 
the ear than of signification ; so she understood the birds, 
whose varied cries were to her a language. And they were 
fearless and tame, perching on her hand, and courting her 
caresses ; while she was as artless, with a knowledge as inno- 
cent, and a nature as happy. If Quetzal’ was the paba’s idol 
in religion, she was his idol in affection. 

He watched her awhile, then suddenly sat up ; though he 
said not a word, she flung her birds off, and came to liim 
smiling. 

“ You called me, father.” 

He laid his hand upon her shoulder, all overflowed with the 
dark hair, and said in a low voice, “ The time approaches 
when Quetzal’ is to come from the home of the gods ; it may 
be he is near. I will send you over the sea and the land 
to find him ; you shall have wings to carry you into the air ; 
and you shall fly swifter than the birds you have been talk- 
ing to.” 

Her smile deepened. 

‘‘ Have you not told me that Quetzal’ is good, and that his 
voice is hke the fountain’s, and that when he speaks it is like 
singing 1 I am ready.” 

He kissed her, and nearer the basin roUed the couch, upon 


76 


THE FAIR GOD. 


which she sat reclined against a heap of cushions, her hands 
clasped over her breast. 

“ Do not let me be long gone ! ” she said. “ The lamps 
will burn low again, and I do not like to have the shadows 
come and fold up my flowers.” 

The paba took a pearl from the folds of his gown, and laid 
it before her ; then he sat down, and fixed his eyes upon her 
face ; she looked at the jewel, and composed herself as for 
sleep. Her hands settled upon her bosom, her features grew 
impassive, the lips slowly parted ; gradually her eyelids 
drooped, and the life running in the veins of her cheeks and 
forehead went back into her heart. Out of the pearl seemed 
to issue a spell that stole upon her spirits gently as an atomy 
settles through the still air. Finally, there was a sigh, a sob, 
and over the soul of the maiden the will of Mualox became 
absolute. He took her hand in his. 

“ Wings swifter than the winds are yours, Tecetl. Go,” 
he said, “ search for the god ; search the land.” 

She moved not, and scarcely breathed. 

Speak,” he continued ; “ let me know that I am obeyed.” 

The will was absolute ; she spoke, and though at first the 
words came slowly, yet he listened like a prophet waiting for 
revelation. She sjDoke of the land, of its rivers, forests, and 
mountains ; she spoke of the cities, of their streets and 
buildings, and of their people, for whom she knew no name. 
She spoke of events transpiring in distant provinces, as well 
as in Tenochtitlan. She went into the temples, markets, 
and palaces. Wherever men travelled, thither her spirit flew. 
When the flight was done, and her broken description ceased, 
the holy man sighed. 

Not yet, Tecetl ; he is not found. The god is not on 
the land. Search the air." 

And still the will was absolute, though the theme of the 
seer changed ; it was not of the land now, but of the higher 


THE SEARCH FOR QUETZAL’. 


77 


realm ; she spoke of the sunshine and the cloud, of the wind 
rushing and chill, of the earth far down, and grown so small 
that the mountains levelled with the plains. 

“ Not yet, not yet,” he cried ; “ the god is not in the air. 
Go search the sea ! ” 

In the hollow of his hand he lifted water, and sprinkled 
her face ; and when he resumed his seat she spoke, not slowly 
as before, but fast and free. 

“ The land is passed ; behind me are the cities and lakes, 
and the great houses and blue waters, such as I have seen in 
my pictures. I am hovering now, father, where there is 
nothing before me but waves and distance. White birds go 
skimming about careless of the foam ; the winds pour upon 
me steadily ; and in my ear is a sound as of a great voice. I 
listen, and it is the sea ; or, father, it may he the voice of the 
god whom you seek.” 

She was silent, as if waiting for an answer. 

The water, is it 1 Well, well, — whither shall I go now?” 

“ Follow the shore ; it may lead where only gods have 
been.” 

“ Still the waves and the distance, and the land, where it 
goes down into the sea sprinkled with shells. Still the deep 
voice in my ear, and the wind about me. I hurry on, hut it 
is all alike, — all water and sound. No ! Out of the waves 
rises a new land, the sea, a girdle of hiUows, encircling it 
everywhere ; yet there are blue clouds ascending from the 
fields, and I see pahn-trees and temples. May not thy god 
dwell here 1 ” 

“ No. You see hut an island. On ! ” 

“ Well, well. Behind me fades the island ; before me is 
nothing but sheen and waves and distance again ; far around 
runs the line separating the sea and sky. Waste, all waste ; 
the sea all green, the sky all blue ; no life j no god. But 


78 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ Something moves on the waste : speak, child ! ” 

But for a time she was stilh 

“ Speak ! ” he said, earnestly. “ Speak, Tecetl ! ” 

“ They are far off, — far off,” she replied, slowly and in a 
doubting way. “ They move and live, but I cannot tell 
whether they come or go, or what they are. Their course is 
unsteady, and, like the flight of birds, now upon the sea, 
then in air, a moment seeming of the waves, then of the sky. 
They look like white clouds.” 

“You are fleeter than birds or clouds, — nearer ! ” he said, 
sternly, the fire in his eyes all alight. 

“I go, — I approach them, — I now see them coming. 0 
father, father ! I know not what your god is like, nor what 
shape he takes, nor in what manner he travels ; but surely 
these are his ! There are many of them, and as they sweep 
along they are a sight to be looked at with trembling.” 

“ What are they, Tecetl 1 ” 

“ How can I answer 'I They are not of the things I have 
seen in my pictures, nor heard in my songs. The face of the 
sea is whitened by them ; the largest leads the way, looking 
like a shell, — of them I have heard you speak as coming 
from the sea, — a great shell streaked with light and shade, 
and hollow, so that the sides rise above the reach of the 
waves, — wings — .” 

“ Hay, what would a god of the air with wings to journey 
upon the sea ! ” 

“ Above it are clouds, — clouds white as the foam, and such 
as a god might choose to waft him on his way. I can see 
them sway and toss, but as the shell rushes into the hollow 
places, they lift it up, and drive it on.” 

A brighter light flashed from his eyes. “It is the canoe, 
the canoe ! ” he exclaimed. “ The canoe from Tlapallan ! ” 

“ The canoe, father ! The waves rush joyously around it j 
they lift themselves in its path, and roll on to meet it ; then, 


THE SEARCH FOR QUETZAL’. 


79 


as if they knew it to be a god’s, in peace make way for its 
coming. Upon the temples in my pictures I have seen signs 
floating in the air — ” 

You mean banners, — banners, child,” he said, tremulously. 

“ I remember now. Above the foremost canoe, above 
its clouds, there is a banner, and it is black — ” 

“ ’T is Quetzal’s ! ’T is Quetzal’s ! ” he muttered. 

‘‘ It is black, with golden embroidery, and something pic- 
ture-written on it, but what I cannot tell.” 

Look in the canoe.” 

“ I see — 0, I know not what to call them.” 

“ Of what shape are they, child ? ” 

“ Yours, father.” 

Go on : they are gods ! ” he said, and still the naming 
of men was unheard in the great chamber. 

“ There are many of them,” she continued ; “ their gar- 
ments flash and gleam ; around one like themselves they are 
met ; to me he seems the superior god ; he is speaking, they 
are listening. He is taUer than you, father, and has a fair 
face, and hair and beard like the hue of his banner. His 
garments are the brightest of all.” 

You have described a god ; it is Quetzal’, the holy, beau- 
tiful Quetzal’ ! ” he said, with rising voice. Look if his 
course be toward the land.” 

Every canoe moves toward the shore.” 

“ Enough ! ” he cried. “ The writing on the waU is the 
god’s ! ” And, rising, he awoke the girl. 

As Tecetl awake had no recollection of her journey, or of 
what she had seen in its course, she wondered at his trouble 
and excitement, and spoke to him, without answer. 

‘‘ Father, what has Tecetl done that you should be so trou- 
bled?” 

He put aside her arms, and in silence turned slowly from 
the pleasant place, and retraced his steps back through the 
halls of the CA to the court-yard and azoteas. 


80 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The weight of the secret did not oppress him ; it rested 
upon him lightly as the surplice upon his shoulders ; for the 
humble servant of his god was lifted above his poverty and 
trembling, and, vivified by the consciousness of inspiration, 
felt more than a warrior’s strength. But what should he do ? 
Where proclaim the revelation ? Upon the temple ? 

“ The streets are deserted ; the people are in the theatre ; 
the king is there with all Anahuac,” he muttered. “The 
coming of Quetzal’ concerns the Empire, and it shall hear the 
announcement : so not on the temple, hut to the tianguez. 
The god speaks to me ! To the tianguez 1 ” 

In the chapel he exchanged his white surplice for the 
regalia of sacrifice. Uever before, to his fancy, wore the idol 
such seeming of life. Satisfaction played grimly about its 
mouth ; upon its brow, like a coronet, sat the infinite Will. 
From the chapel he descended to the street that led to the 
great square. Insensibly, as he hurried on, his steps quick- 
ened ; and bareheaded and unsandalled, his white beard and 
hair loose and flowing, and his face beaming with excite- 
ment, he looked the very embodiment of direful prophecy. 
On the streets he met only slaves. At the theatre the entrance 
was blocked by people ; soldiery guarded the arena : but 
guard and people shrunk at his approach \ and thus, without 
word or cry, he rushed within the wall of shields, where 
were none hut the combatants, living and dead. 

Midway the arena he halted, his face to the king. Around 
ran his wondrous glance, and, regardless of the royalty pres- 
ent, the people shouted, “ The paba, the paha ! ” and their 
many voices shook the theatre. Flinging the white locks 
hack on his shoulders, he tossed his arms aloft; and the 
tumult rose into the welkin, and a cahn settled over the 
multitude. Montezuma, with the malediction warm on his 
lips, bent from his couch to hear his words. 

“Woe is Tenochtitlan, the beautiful!” he cried, in the 


THE SEARCH FOR QUETZAL’. 


81 


unmeasured accents of grief. “ Woe to homes, and people, 
and armies, and king ! Why this gathering of dwellers on 
the hills and in the vaUeys ] Why the combat of warriors t 
Quetzal’ is at hand. He comes for vengeance. Woe is 
Tenochtitlan, the beautiful \ * This, 0 king, is the 

day of the fulfilment of prophecy. From out the sea, wafted 
by clouds, even now the canoes of the god are coming. His 
power whitens the waves, and the garments of his warriors 
gleam with the light of the sky. Woe is Tenochtitlan ! This 
day is the last of her perfect glory ; to-morrow Quetzal’ will 
glisten on the sea-shore, and her Empire vanish forever. 
* * * * People, say farewell to peace ! Keepers of the 
temples, holy men, go feed the fires, and say the prayer, and 
sacrifice the victim ! And thou, 0 king ! summon thy strong 
men, leaders in battle, and be thy banners counted, and thy 
nations marshalled. In vain ! Woe is Tenochtitlan ! Sit- 
ting in the lake, she shines lustrously as a star ; and though 
in a valley of gardens, she is like a great tree shadowing in a 
desert. But the ravager comes, and the tree shall be felled, 
and the star go out darkling forever. The fires shall fade, 
the bones of the dead kings be scattered, altars and gods 
overthrown, and every temple levelled with the streets. Woe 
is Tenochtitlan ! Ended, — ended forever is the march of 
Azatlan, the mighty ! ” 

His arms feU down, and, without further word, his head 
bowed upon his breast, the prophet departed. The spell he 
left behind him remained unbroken. As they recovered 
from the effects of his bodement, the people left the theatre, 
their minds full of indefinite dread. If perchance they 
spoke of the scene as they went, it was in whispers, and 
rather to sound the depths of each other’s alarm. And for 
the rest of the day they remained in their houses, brooding 
alone, or collected in groups, talking in low voices, wonder- 
ing about the prescience of the paba, and looking each mo- 
ment for the development of something more terrible. 


82 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The king watched the holy man until he disappeared in 
the crowded passage ; then a deadly paleness overspread his 
face, and he sunk almost to the platform. The nobles rushed 
around, and bore him to his palanquin, their brave souls 
astonished that the warrior and priest and mighty monarch 
could be so overcome. They carried him to his palace, and 
left him to a solitude full of unkingly superstitions. 

Guatamozin, serene amid the confusion, called the tamanes^ 
and ordered the old Othmi and the dead removed. The Tez- 
cucan still breathed. 

“ The reviler of the gods shall be cared for,” he said to 
himself. ‘‘ If he Hves, their justice will convict him.” 

Before the setting of the sun, the structure in the tianguez 
was taken down and restored to the temples, never again to 
be used. Yet the market-place remained deserted and vacant ; 
the whole city seemed plague-smitten. 

And the common terror was not without cause, any more 
than Mualox was Avithout inspiration. That night the ships 
of Cortes, eleven in number, and freighted with the materials 
of conquest, from the east of Yucatan, came sweeping down 
the bay of Campeachy. Next morning they sailed up the 
Eio de Tabasco, beautiful with its pure water and its banks 
fringed with mangroves. Tecetl had described the fleet, 
the sails of which from afar looked like clouds, while they 
did, indeed, whiten the sea. 

Next evening a courier sped hotly over the causeway and 
up the street, stopping at the gate of the royal palace. He 
was taken before the king ; and, shortly after, it went flying 
over the city how Quetzal’ had arrived, in canoes larger than 
temples, wafted by clouds, and full of thunder and lightning. 
Then sank the monarch’s heart ; and, though the Spaniard 
knew it not, his marvellous conquest was half completed 
before his iron shoe smote the shore at San Juan de UUoa.* 

* Cortes’ squadron reached the mouth of the river Tabasco on the 12th 
of March, 151». 


BOOK TWO. 


CHAPTEE 1. 


WHO ARE THE STRANGERS 1 



’AECH passed, and April came, and still the strangers, 


-LVJL in their great canoes, lingered on the coast. Montezuma 
observed them with becoming prudence ; through his lookouts, 
he was informed of their progress from the time they left tho 
Eio de Tabasco. 

The constant anxiety to which he was subjected affected 
his temper ; and, though roused from the torpor into which 
he had been plunged by the visit to the golden chamber, and 
the subsequent prophecy of Mualox, his melancholy was a 
thing of common observation. He renounced his ordinary 
amusements, even totoloque, and went no more to the hunting- 
grounds on the shore of the lake ; in preference, he took 
long walks in the gardens, and reclined in the audience- 
chamber of his palace ; yet more remarkable, conversa- 
tion with his councillors and nobles delighted him more 
than the dances of his women or the songs of his min- 
strels. In truth, the monarch was himself a victim of the 
delusions he had perfected for his people. Polytheism had 
come to him with the Empire ; but he had enlarged upon it, 
and covered it with dogmas; and so earnestly, through a 
long and glorious reign, had he preached them, that, at last, 
he had become his own most zealous convert. In all his 
dominions, there was not one whom faith more inclined to 
absolute fear of Quetzal’ than himself 


84 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Ojie evening he passed from his bath to the dining-hall 
for the last meal of the day. Invigorated, and, as was his 
custom, attired for the fourth time since morning in fresh 
garments, he walked briskly, and even droned a song. 

No monarch in Europe fared more sumptuously than 
Montezuma. The room devoted to the purpose was spacious, 
and, on this occasion, brilliantly lighted. The floor was 
spread with figured matting, and the walls hung Avith beau- 
tiful tapestry ; and in the centre of the apartment a lux- 
urious couch had been rolled for him, it being his habit to 
eat reclining ; while, to hide him from the curious, a screen 
had been contrived, and set up between the couch and prin- 
cipal door. The viands set down by his steward as the 
substantials of the first course were arranged upon the floor 
before the couch, and kept warm and smoking by chafing- 
dishes. The table, if such it may be called, was supplied by 
contributions from the provinces, and furnished, in fact, no 
contemptible proof of his authority, and the perfection with 
which it was exercised. The ware was of the finest Cholulan 
manufacture, and, like his clothes, never used by him but 
the once, a royal custom requiring him to present it to his 
friends.'’^ 

When he entered the room, the evening I have mentioned, 
there were present only his steward, four or five aged coun- 
cillors, whom he was accustomed to address as “ uncles,” and 
a couple of women, who occupied themselves in preparing 
certain wafers and confections which he particularly affected. 
He stretched himself comfortably upon the couch, much, I 
presume, after the style of the Eomans, and at once began 
the meal. The ancients moved back several steps, and a 
score of boys, noble, yet clad in the inevitable nequen^ re- 
sponding to a bell, came in and posted themselves to answer 
his requests. 


Prescott, Conq. of Mexico. 


WHO ARE THE STRANGEB^i ] 


85 


Sometimes, by invitation, the councillors were permitted 
to share the feast ; oftener, however, the only object of their 
presence was to afford him the gratification of remark. The 
conversation was usually irregular, and hushed and renewed 
as he prompted, and not unfrequently extended to the gravest 
political and religious subjects. On the evening in question 
he spoke to them kindly. 

I feel better this evening, uncles. My good star is rising 
above the mists that have clouded it. We ought not to com- 
plain of what we cannot help ; still, I have thought that 
when the gods retained the power to afflict us with sorrows, 
they should have given us some power to correct them.” 

One of the old men answered reverentially, “A king 
should be too great for sorrows ; he should wear his crown 
against them as we wear our mantles against the cold winds.” 

“ A good idea,” said the monarch, smiling ; ‘‘ but you for^ 
get that the crown, instead of protecting, is itself the trouble. 
Come nearer, uncles ; there is a matter more serious about 
which I would hear your minds.” 

They obeyed him, and he went on. 

“The last courier brought me word that the strangers 
were yet on the coast, hovering about the islands. Tell me, 
who say you they are, and whence do they come ] ” 

“ How may we know more than our wise master ] ” said 
one of them. 

“ And our thoughts, — do we not borrow them from you, 
0 king 1 ” added another. 

“ What ! Call you those answers ? Nay, uncles, my 
fools can better serve me ; if they cannot instruct, they can 
at least amuse.” 

The king spoke bitterly, and looking at one, probably the 
oldest of them all, said, — 

“ Uncle, you are the poorest courtier, but you are discreet 
and honest. I want opinions that have in them more wis- 


86 


THE FAIR GOD. 


dom than flattery. Speak to me truly : who are these 
strangers ? ” 

“ For your sake, 0 my good king, I wish I were wise ; 
for the trouble they have given my poor understanding is 
indeed very great. I believe them to be gods, landed from 
the Sun.” And the old man went on to fortify his belief 
with arguments. In the excited state of his fancy, it was 
easy for him to convert the cannon of the Spaniards into 
engines of thunder and lightning, and transform their 
horses into creatures of Mictlan mightier than men. Eight 
summarily he also concluded, that none but gods could 
traverse the dominions of Haloc,^ subjecting the variant 
winds to their will. Finally, to prove the strangers irresist- 
ible, he referred to the battle of Tabasco, then lately fought 
between Cortes and the Indians. 

Montezuma heard him in silence, and replied, “ Hot 
badly given, uncle ; your friends may profit by your exam- 
ple ; but you have not talked as a warrior. You have for- 
gotten that we, too, have beaten the lazy Tabascans. That 
reference proves as much for my caciques as for your gods.” 

He waved his hand, and the first course was removed. 
The second consisted for the most part of delicacies in the 
preparation of which his artistes delighted ; at this time ap- 
peared the choclatl, a rich, frothy beverage served in xicaraSy 
or small golden goblets. Cirls, selected for their rank and 
beauty, succeeded the boys. Flocking around him with light 
and echoless feet, very graceful, very happy, theirs was in- 
deed the service that awaits the faithful in Mahomet’s Para- 
dise. To each of his ancients he passed a goblet of choclatl, 
then continued his eating and talking. 

“ Yes. Be they gods or men, I would give a province to 
know their intention ; that, uncles, would enable me to de- 
termine my policy, — whether to give them war or peace. 


God of the sea. 


WHO ARE THE STRANGER.-* 


87 


As yet, they have asked nothing but the privilege of trading 
•with us ; and, judging them by our nations, I want not bet- 
ter wari’ant of friendship. As you know, strangers have 
twice before been upon our coast in such canoes, and with 
such arms ; * and in both instances they sought gold, and 
getting it they departed. Will these go hke them 1 ” 

“ Has my master forgotten the words of Mualox ? ” 

“ To Mictlan with the paba ! ” said the king, violently. 
“ He has filled my cities and people with trouble.” 

“ Yet he is a prophet,” retorted the old councillor, boldly. 
“How knew he of the coming of the strangers before it 
was known in the palace 1 ” 

The flush of the king’s face faded. 

“It is a mystery, uncle, — a mystery too deep for me. 
All the day and night before he was in his Cfl ; he went not 
into the city even.” 

“ If the wise master will listen to the words of his slave, 
he will not again curse the paba, but make him a friend.” 

^ The monarch’s lip curled derisively. 

“ My palace is now a house of prayer and sober life ; he 
would turn it into a place of revelry.” 

All the ancients but the one laughed at the irony ; that 
one repeated his words. 

“ A friend ; but how ^ ” asked Montezuma. 

“ Call him from the Cu to the palace ; let him stand here 
with us ; in the councils give him a voice. He can read the 
future ; make of him an oracle. 0 king, who like him can 
stand between you and Quetzal’ 1 ” 

For a while Montezuma toyed idly with the xicara. He 
also believed in the prophetic gifts of Mualox, and it was 
not the first time he had pondered the question of how the 
holy man had learned the coming of the strangers ; to satisfy 

* The allusion was doubtless to the expeditions of Hernandez de Cor- 
dova, in 1517, and Juan de Grijalva, in 1518. 


88 


THE FAIR GOD. 


himself as to liis means of information, he had even insti- 
tuted inquiries outside the palace. And yet it was but one 
of several mysteries ; behind it, if not superior, were the 
golden chamber, its wealth, and the writing on the walls. 
They were not to be attributed to the paba : works so won- 
drous could not have been done in one lifetime. They were 
the handiwork of a god, who had chosen Mualox for his ser- 
vant and prophet ; such was the judgment of the king. 

Nor was that all. The monarch had come to believe that 
the strangers on the coast were Quetzal’ and his followers, 
whom it were vain to resist, if their object was vengeance. 
But the human heart is seldom without its suggestion of 
hope ; and he thought, though resistance was impossible, 
might he not propitiate 1 This policy had occupied his 
thoughts, and most likely without result, for the words of 
the councillor seemed welcome. Indeed, he could scarcely 
fail to recognize the bold idea they conveyed, — nothing 
less, in fact, than meeting the god with his own prophet. 

“Very well,” he said, in his heart. “ I wiU use the paba. 
He shall come and stand between me and the woe.” 

Then he arose, took a string of pearls from his neck, 
and with his own hand placed it around that of the 
ancient. 

“ Your place is with me, uncle. I will have a chamber 
fitted for you here in the palace. Go no more away. Ho, 
steward ! The supper is done ; let the pipes be brought, 
and give me music and dance. Bid the minstrels come. A 
song of tlie olden time may make me strong again.” 


A TEZCUCAN LOVER. 


89 


CHAPTEK 11. 


A TEZCUCAN LOVER. 



lE^-CES of the supper speedily disappeared. The screen 


- 1 - was rolled away, and pipes placed in the monarch’s 
hand for distribution amongst his familiars. Blue vapor 
began to ascend to the carved rafters, when the tapestry on 
both sides of the room was flung aside, and the sound of 
cornets and flutes poured in from an adjoining apartment ; 
and, as if answering the summons of the music, a company 
of dancing-girls entered, and filled the space in front of the 
monarch ; half nude were they, and flashing with ornaments, 
and aerial with gauze and flying ribbons ; silver bells tinkled 
vdth each step, and on their heads were wreaths, and in their 
hands garlands of flowers. Voluptuous children were they 
of the voluptuous valley. 

Saluting the monarch, they glided away, and commenced 
a dance. With dreamy, half-shut eyes, through the scented 
cloud momently deepening around him, he watched them ; 
and in the sensuous, animated scene was disclosed one of 
the enchantments that had weaned him from the martial 
love of his youth. 

Every movement of the figure had been carefully studied, 
and a kind of aesthetic philosophy was blent with its perfect 
time and elegance of motion. Slow and stately at first, it 
gradually quickened ; then, as if to excite the blood and 
fancy, it became more mazy and voluptuous ; and finally, as 
that is the sweetest song that ends with a long decadence, it 
was so concluded as to soothe the transports itself had 
awakened. Sweeping along, it reached a point, a very 
climax of abandon and beauty, in which the dancers ap- 


90 


THE FAIR GOD. 


peared to forget the music and the method of the figure ; 
then the eyes of the king shone brightly, and the pipe lin- 
gered on his lips forgotten ; and then the musicians began, 
one by one, to withdraw from the harmony, and the dancers 
to vanish singly from the room, until, at last, there was but 
one flute to be heard, while but one girl remained. Finally, 
she also disappeared, and all grew still again. 

And the king sat silent and listless, surrendered to the 
enjoyment which was the object of the diversion ; yet he 
heard the music ; yet he saw the lithe and palpitating forms 
of the dancers in posture and motion ; yet he felt the sweet 
influence of their youth and grace and beauty, not as a 
passion, but rather a spell full of the suggestions of passion, 
when a number of men came noiselessly in, and, kneeling, 
saluted him. Their costume was that of priests, and each 
of them carried an instrument of music fasliioned somewhat 
like a Hebrew lyre. 

Ah, my minstrels, my minstrels ! ” he said, his face 
flushing with pleasure. “ Welcome in the streets, welcome 
in the camp, welcome in the palace, also ! What have you 
to-night I ” 

“ When last we were admitted to your presence, 0 king, 
you bade us compose hymns to the god Quetzal' — ” 

“ Yes ; I remember.” 

“We pray you not to think ill of your slaves if we say 
that the verses which come unbidden are the best ; no song 
of the bird’s so beautiful as the one it sings when its heart 
is full.” 

The monarch sat up. 

“ Hay, I did not command. I know something of the spirit 
of poetry. It is not a thing to be driven by the will, like a 
canoe by a strong arm ; neither is it a slave, to come or go 
at a signal. I bid my warriors march ; I order the sacri- 
fice ; but the lays of my minstrels have ever been of their 


A TEZCUCAN LOVER. 


91 


free will. Leave me now. To you are my gardens and pal- 
aces. I warrant the verses you have are good ; but go ask 
your hearts for better.” 

They retired with their faces toward him until hidden 
behind the tapestry. 

“ I love a song, uncles,” continued the king ; I love a 
hymn to the gods, and a story of battle chanted in a deep 
voice. In the haUs of the Sun every soul is a minstrel, and 
every tale a song. But let them go ; it is well enough. I 
promised Itzlil’, the Tezcucan, to give him audience to-night. 
He comes to the palace but seldom, and he has not asked a 
favor since I settled his quarrel with the lord Cacama. Send 
one to see if he is now at the door.” 

Thereupon he fell to reflecting and smoking ; and when 
next he spoke, it was from the midst of an aromatic cloud. 

I loved the wise ’HualpiUi ; for his sake, I would have 
his children happy. He was a lover of peace, and gave 
more to policy than to war. It were grievous to let his 
city be disturbed by feuds and fighting men ; therefore I 
gave it to the eldest son. His claim was best ; and, besides, 
he has the friendly heart to serve me. Still — still, I wish 
there had been two Tezcucos.” 

“ There was but one voice about the judgment in Tezcuco, 

0 king ; the citizens all said it was just.” 

“ And they would have said the same if I had given them 
Iztlir. I know the knaves, uncle. It was not their applause 

1 cared for ; but, you see, in gaining a servant, I lost one. 
Izthr is a warrior. Had he the will, he could serve me in 
the field as well as his brother in the council. I must attach 
him to me. A strong arm is pleasant to lean on ; it is better 
than a staff.” 

Addressing himself to the pipe again, he sat smoking, and 
moodily observing the vapor vanish above him. There was 
silence until Iztlil’ was ushered in. 


92 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The cacique was still suffering from his wounds. His step 
was feeble, so that his obeisance was stopped by the monarch 
himself. 

“ Let the salutation go, my lord Iztlil’. Your courage has 
cost you much. I remember you are the son of my old friend, 
and bid you welcome.” 

“ The Tlascalans are good warriors,” said the Tezcucan, 
coldly. 

‘‘And for that reason better victims,” added the king, 
quickly. “ By the Sun, I know not what we would do with- 
out them. Their hills supply our temples.” 

“ And I, good king — lam but a warrior. My heart is not 
softened by things pertaining to religion. Enough for me to 
worship the gods.” 

“ Then you are not a student ? ” 

“ I never studied in the academies.” 

“ I understand,” said the king, with a low laugh. “ You 
cannot name as many stars as enemies whom you have slain. 
Ho matter. I have places for such scholars. Have you 
commanded an army 1 ” 

“ It pleased you to give me that confidence. I led my 
companies within the Tlascalan wall, and came back with 
captives.” 

“ I recollect now. But as most good warriors are modest, 
my son, I will not tell you what the chiefs said of your con- 
duct ; you would blush — ” 

Iztlir started. 

“ Content you, content you ; your blush would not be for 
shame.” 

There was a pause, which the king gave to his pipe. Sud- 
denly he said, “There have been tongues busy with your 
fame, my son. I have heard you were greatly dissatisfied 
because I gave your father’s city to your elder brother. But 
I consider that men are never without detractors, and I can- 


A TEZCUCAN LOVER. 


93 


not forget that you have perilled your life for the gods. 
Actions I accept as the proofs of will. If the favor that 
brought you here be reasonable, it is yours for the asking. I 
have the wish to serve you.” 

“ I am not surprised that I have enemies,” said IztUr, 
calmly. “ I will abuse no one on that account ; for I am an 
enemy, and can forgive in others what I deem virtue in my- 
self. But it moves me greatly, O king, that my enemies 
should steal into your palace, and, in my absence, wrong me 
in your opinion. But pardon me ; I did not come to defend 
myself — ” 

“ You have taken my words in an evil sense,” interposed 
the king, with an impatient gesture. 

“Or to conceal the truth,” the Tezcucan continued. 
“ There is kingly blood in me, and I dare speak as my 
father’s son. So if they said merely that I was dissatisfied 
with your judgment, they said truly.” 

Montezuma frowned. 

“ I intend my words to be respectful, most mighty king. 
A common wisdom teaches us to respect the brave man and 
dread the coward. And there is not in your garden a fiower 
as beautiful, nor in your power a privilege as precious, as free 
speech ; and it would sound ill of one so great and secure as 
my father’s friend if he permitted in the streets and in the 
farmer’s hut what he forbade in his palace. I spoke of dis- 
satisfaction ; but think not it was because you gave Tezcuco 
to my brother, and to me the bare hills that have scarcely 
herbage enough for a wolf- covert. I am less a prince than a 
warrior ; all places are alike to me ; the earth affords me 
royal slumber, while no jewelled canopy is equal to the starred 
heavens ; and as there is a weakness in pleasant memories, I 
have none. To such as I am, 0 king, what matters a barren 
hill or a proud palace 1 I murmured, nay, I did more, be- 
cause, in judging my quarrel, you overthrew the indepen- 


94 


THE FAIR GOD. 


dence of my country. When my father visited you irom 
across the lake, he was not accustomed to stand before you, 
or hide his kingly robes beneath a slave’s garb.” 

Montezuma half started from his seat. “ Holy gods ! Is 
rebellion so bold ? ” 

“ I meant no disrespect, great king. I only sought to 
justify myself, and in your royal presence say what I have 
thought while fighting under your banner. But, without 
more abuse of your patience, I will to my purpose, especially 
as I came for peace and friendship.” 

“ The son of my friend forgets that I have ways to make 
peace without treating for it,” said the king. 

The Tezcucan smothered an angry reply. 

** By service done, I have shown a disposition to serve you, 
0 king. Very soon every warrior will be needed. A throne 
may be laid amid hymns and priestly prayers, yet have no 
strength ; to endure, it must rest upon the allegiance of love. 
Though I have spoken unpleasant words, I came to ask that, 
by a simple boon, you give me cause to love. I have re- 
flected that I, too, am of royal blood, and, as the son of a 
king, may lead your armies, and look for alliance in your 
house. By marriage, 0 king, I desire, come good or evil, to 
link my fortune to yours.” 

Montezuma’s countenance was stolid ; no eye could have 
detected upon it so much as surprise. He quietly asked, 
“ Which of my daughters has found favor in your eyes 1 ” 

“ They are all beautiful, but only one of them is fitted for 
a warrior’s wife.” 

“Tula?” 

Iztlil’ bowed. 

“ She is dear to me,” said the king, softly, “ dearer than a 
city ; she is holy as a temple, and lovelier than the morning ; 
her voice is sweet as the summer wind, and her presence as 
the summer itself. Have you spoken to her of this thing 1 ” 


THE BANISHMENT OF GUATAMOZIN. 


95 


“I love her, so that her love is nothing to me. Her 
feelings are her own, hut she is yours ; and you are more 
powerful to give than she to withhold.” 

“Well, well,” said the monarch, after a little thought; 
“ in my realm there are none of better quality than the chil- 
dren of ’Hualpilli, — none from whom such demand is as 
jproper. Yet it is worthy deliberation. It is true, I have 
the power to bestow, hut there are others who have the right 
to he consulted. I study the happiness of my people, and 
it were unnatural if I cared less for that of my children. 
So leave me now, hut take with you, brave prince, the assur- 
ance that I am friendly to your suit. The gods go with 
you ! ” 

And Iztlil’, after a low obeisance, withdrew ; and then the 
overture was fully discussed. Montezuma spoke freely, wel- 
coming the opportunity of securing the hold, free-spoken 
cacique, and seeing in the demand only a question of policy. 
As might be expected, the ancients made no opposition ; 
they could see no danger in the alliance, and had no care for 
the parties. It was policy. 


CHAPTER in. 


THE BANISHMENT OF GUATAMOZIN. 


HE palace of Montezuma was regarded as of very great 



± sanctity, so that his household, its economy, and the 
exact relation its members bore to each other were mysteries 
to the public. From the best information, however, it would 
seem that he had two lawful and acknowledged wives, the 
queens Tecalco and Acatlan,* who, with their families, occu- 

* These are the proper names of the queens. MSS of Mufioz. Also, 
note to Prescott, Conq. of Mexico, Vol. II., p. 351. 


96 


THE FAIR GOD. 


pied spacious apartments secure from intrusion. They were 
good-looking, middle-aged women, whom the monarch hon- 
ored with the highest respect and confidence. By the first 
one, he had a son and daughter; by the second, two 
daughters. 

Help me, Acatlan ! I appeal to your friendship, to 
the love you bear your children, — help me in my trouble.” 
So the queen Tecalco prayed the queen Acatlan in the palace 
the morning after the audience given the Tezcucan by the 
king. 

The two were sitting in a room furnished with some taste. 
Through the great windows, shaded by purple curtains, 
streamed the fresh breath of the early day. There were 
female slaves around them in waiting ; while a boy nearly 
grown, at the eastern end of the apartment, was pitching 
the golden balls in totoloque. This was prince lo’, the 
brother of Tula, and son of Tecalco. 

What is the trouble % What can I do ? ” asked Acatlan. 

“ Listen to me,” said Tecalco. “ The king has just gone. 
He came in better mood than usual, and talked pleasantly. 
Something had happened ; some point of policy had been 
gained. Nowadays, you know, he talks and thinks of noth- 
ing but policy; formerly it was all of war. We cannot 
deny, Acatlan, that he is much changed. Well, he played 
a game with lo’, then sat down, saying he had news which 
he thought would please me. You will hardly believe it, 
but he said that Iztlil’, the proud Tezcucan, asked Tula in 
marriage last night. Think of it ! Tula, my blossom, my 
soul ! and to that vile cacique ! ” 

‘‘Well, he is brave, and the son of ’Hualpilli,” said 
Acatlan. 

“ What ! You ! ” said Tecalco, despairingly. “ Do you, 
too, turn against me ? I do not like him, and would not if 
he were the son of a god. Tula hates him ! ” 


THE BANISHMENT OF GUATAMOZIN. 


97 


“ I will not turn against you, Tecalco. Be calmer, and 
tell me what more the king said.” 

*‘I told him I was surprised, but not glad to hear the 
news. He frowned, and paced the floor, now here, now 
there. I was frightened, hut could hear his anger better 
than the idea of my Tula, so good, so beautiful, the wife of 
the base Tezcucan. He said the marriage must go on; it 
was required by policy, and would help quiet the Empire, 
which was never so threatened. You will hardly believe I 
ventured to tell him that it should not be, as Tula was 
already contracted to Guatamozin. I supposed that an- 
nouncement would quiet the matter, but it only enraged 
him ; he spoke bitterly of the ’tzin. I could scarcely believe 
my ears. He used to love him. What has happened to 
change his feeling 1 ” 

Acatlan tlirummed her pretty mouth with her fingers, and 
thought awhile. 

“Yes, I have heard some stories about the Tzin — ” 

“ Indeed ! ” said Tecalco, opening her eyes. 

“ He too has changed, as you may have observed,” con- 
tinued Acatlan. “ He used to be gay and talkative, fond of 
company, and dance ; latterly, he stays at home, and when 
abroad, mopes, and is silent ; while we all know that no 
great private or public misfortune has happened him. The 
king appears to have noticed it. And, my dear sister,” — 
the queen lowered her voice to a confidential whisper, — 
“ they say the Tzin aspires to the throne.” 

“ What ! Do you believe it ? Does the king 1 ” cried 
Tecalco, more in anger than surprise. 

“ I believe nothing yet, though there are some grounds 
for his accusers to go upon. They say he entertains at his 
palace near Iztapalapan none but men of the army, and that 
while in Tenochtitlan, he studies the favor of the people, and 
uses his wealth to win popularity with all classes. Indeed, 

5 o 


98 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Tecalco, somehow the king learned that, on the day of the 
celebration of Quetzal’, the ’tzin was engaged in a direct 
conspiracy against him.” 

“It is false, Acatlan, it is false ! The king has not a 
more faithful subject. I know the ’tzin. He is worth a 
thousand of the Tezcucan, who is himself the traitor.” And 
the vexed queen beat the floor with her sandalled foot. 

“As to that, Tecalco, I know nothing. But what more 
from the king % ” 

“ He told me that Tula should never marry the ’tzin ; he 
would use all his power against it ; he would banish him 
from the city first. And his rage increased until, finally, he 
swore by the gods he would order a banquet, and, in pres- 
ence of all the lords of the Empire, publicly betroth Tula and 
the Tezcucan. He said he would do anything the safety of 
the throne and the gods required of him. He never was so 
angry. And that, 0 Acatlan, my sister, that is my trouble. 
How can I save my child from such a horrid betrothal % ” 

Acatlan shook her head gloomily. “ The king brooks de- 
feat better than opposition. We would not be safe to do 
anything openly. I acknowledge myself afraid, and unable 
to advise you.” 

Tecalco burst into tears, and wrung her hands, overcome 
by fear and rage. lo’ then left his game, and came to her. 
He was not handsome, being too large for his years, and un- 
graceful ; this tendency to homeliness was increased by the 
smallness of his face and head ; the features were actually 
childish. 

“ Say no more, mother,” he said, tears standing in his 
eyes, as if to prove his sympathy and kindliness. “You 
know it would be better to play with the tigers than stir the 
king to anger.” 

“Ah, lo’, what shall I d(^l I always heard you speak 
well of the ’tzin. You loved him once.” 


THE BANISHMENT OF GUATAMOZIN. 


99 


“ And I love him yet.” 

Tecalco was less pacified than ever. 

“ What would I not give to know who set the king so 
against him ! Upon the traitor be the harm there is in a 
mother’s curse ! If my child must be sacrificed, let it be by 
a priest, and as a victim to the gods.” 

“ Do not speak so. Be wise, Tecalco. RecoUect such 
sorrows belong to our rank.” 

Our rank, Acatlan ! I can forget it sooner than that I 
am a mother ! 0, you do not know how long I have 

nursed the idea of wedding Tula to the ’tzin ! Since their 
childhood I have prayed, plotted, and hoped for it. With 
what pride I have seen them grow up, — he so brave, gener- 
ous, and princely, she so staid and beautiful ! I have never 
allowed her to think of other destiny : the gods made them 
for each other.” 

“ Mother,” said lo’, thoughtfully, I have heard you say 
that Guatamoziii was wise. Why not send him word of 
what has happened, and put our trust in him % ” 

The poor queen caught at the suggestion eagerly ; for with 
a promise of aid, at the same time it relieved her of responsi- 
bility, of all burthens the most dreadful to a woman. And 
Acatlan, really desirous of helping her friend, but at a 
loss for a plan, and terrified by the idea of the monarch’s 
wrath incurred, wondered they had not thought of the pro- 
posal sooner, and urged the ’tzin’s right to be informed of 
the occurrence. 

“ There must be secrecy, Tecalco. The king must never 
know us as traitors : that would be our ruin.” 

“ There shall be no danger ; I can go myself,” said lo’. 

It is long since I was at Iztapalapan, and they say the ’tzin 
has such beautiful gardens. I want to see the three kings 
who hold torches in his hallj I want to try a bow with 
him.” * 


100 


THE FAIR GOD. 


After some entreaty, Tecalco assented. She required him, 
however, to put on a costume less likely to attract attention, 
and take some other than a royal canoe across the lake. 
Half an hour later, he passed out of a garden gate, and, by 
a circuitous route, hurried to the canal in which lay the ves- 
sels of the Iztapalapan watermen. He found one, and was 
bargaining with its owner, when a young man walked briskly 
up, and stepped into a canoe close by. Something in the 
gay dress of the stranger made lo’ look at him a second 
time, and he was hardly less pleased than surprised at being 
addressed, — 

Ho, friend ! I am going to your city. Save your cocoa, 
and go with me.” 

lo’ was confused. 

“ Come on ! ” the stranger persisted, with a pleasant smile. 
“ Come on ! I want company. You were never so wel- 
come.” 

The smile decided the hoy. He set one foot in the vessel, 
hut instantly retreated — an ocelot, crouched in the bottom, 
raised its round head, and stared fixedly at him. The 
stranger laughed, and reassured him, after which he walked 
boldly forward. Then the canoe swung from its mooring, 
and in a few minutes, under the impulsion of three strong 
slaves, went flying down the canal. Under bridges, through 
incoming flotillas, and past the great houses on either hand 
they darted, until the city was left behind, and the lake, 
colored with the borrowed blue of the sky, spread out rich 
and billowy before them. The eyes of the stranger bright- 
ened at the prospect. 

“I like this. By Our Mother, I like it!” he said, ear- 
nestly. “We have lakes in Tihuanco on which I have spent 
days riding waves and spearing fish ; but they were dull to 
this. See the stretch of the water ! Look yonder at the 
villages, and here at the city and Chapultepec ! Ah, that 


THE BANISHMENT OF GUATAMOZIN. 


101 


you were born in Tenochtitlan be proud. There is no 
grander birthplace this side of the Sun ! ” 

“ I am an Aztec,” said lo’, moved by the words. 

The other smiled, and added, Why not go further, and 
say, ‘ and son of the king ? ’ ” 

lo’ was startled. 

“ Surprised ! Good prince, I am a hunter. From habit, I 
observe everything ; a track, a tree, a place, once seen is never 
forgotten ; and since I came to the city, the night before the 
combat of Quetzal’, the habit has not left me. That day 
you were seated under the red canopy, with the princesses 
Tula and Nenetzin. So I came to know the king’s son.” 

“ Then you saw the combat % ” 

And how brave it was ! There never was its match, — 
never such archery as the ’tzin’s. Then the blow with which 
he killed the Othmi ! I only regretted that the Tezcucan 
escaped. I do not like him ; he is envious and spiteful ; it 
would have been better had he fallen instead of the Otompan. 
You know Iztlir?” 

Not to love him,” said lo’. 

Is he like the ’tzin % ” 

Not at aU.” 

‘‘ So I have heard,” said the hunter, shrugging his shoul- 
ders. But — Down, fellow ! ” he cried to the ocelot, whose 
approaches discomposed the prince. I was going to say,” 
he resumed, with a look which, as an invitation to confidence, 
was irresistible, “that there is no, reason why you and I 
should not be friends. We are both going to see the 
’tzin — ” 

lo’ was again much confused. 

“ I only heard you say so to the waterman on the landing. 
If your visit, good prince, was intended as a secret, you are 
a careless messenger. But have no fear. I intend entering 
the ’tzin’s service ; that is, if he will take me.” 


102 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Is the 'tzin enlisting men ? ” asked lo’. 

“ No. I am merely weary of hunting. My father is a 
good merchant whose trading life is too tame for me. I love 
excitement. Even hunting deer and chasing wolves are too 
tame. I wiU now try war, and there is but one whom I 
care to follow. Together we will see and talk to him.” 

“You speak as if you were used to arms.” 

“ My skill may be counted nothing. I seek the service 
more from what I imagine it to be. The march, the camp, 
the battle, the taking captives, the perilling life, when it is 
but a secondary object, as it must be with every warrior of 
true ambition, all have charms for my fancy. Besides, I am 
discontented with my condition. I want honor, rank, and 
command, — wealth I have. Hence, for me, the army is the 
surest road. Beset with trials, and needing a good heart 
and arm, yet it travels upward, upward, and that is all I 
seek to know.” 

The naivete and enthusiasm of the hunter were new and 
charming to the prince, who was impelled to study him once 
more. He noticed how exactly the arms were rounded ; 
that the neck was long, muscular, and widened at the base, 
like the trunk of an oak ; that the features, excited by the 
passing feeling, were noble and good ; that the very carriage 
of the head was significant of aptitude for brave things, 
if not command. Could the better gods have thrown lo’ in 
such company for self-comparison 1 Was that the time they 
had chosen to wake within him the longings of mind nat- 
ural -to coming manhood? He felt the inspiration of an 
idea new to him. All his life had been passed in the splen- 
did monotony of his father’s palace ; he had been permitted 
merely to hear of war, and that from a distance ; of the 
noble passion for arms he knew nothing. Accustomed to 
childish wants, with authority to gratify them, ambition for 
power had not yet disturbed him. But, as he listened, it 


GUATAMOZIN AT HOME. 


103 


■was given him to see the emptiness of his past life, and 
understand the advantages he already possessed; he said 
to himself, “ Am I not master of grade and opportunities, 
so coveted by this unknown hunter, and so far above his 
reach 1 ” In that moment the contentment which had cano- 
pied his existence, like a cahn sky, full of stars and silence 
and peace, was taken up, and whirled away; his spirit 
strengthened with a rising ambition and a courage royally 
descended. 

“You are going to study with the ’tzin. I would like to 
be your comrade,” he said. 

“ I accept you, I give you my heart ! ” replied the 
hunter, with beaming face. “We will march, and sleep, and 
fight, and practise together. I will be true to you as shield 
to the warrior. Hereafter, 0 prince, when you would speak 
of me, call me Hualpa ; and if you would make me happy, 
say of me, ‘ He is my comrade ! ’ ” 

The sun stood high in the heavens when they reached 
the landing. Mounting a few steps that led from the 
water’s edge, they found themselves in a garden rich with 
flowers, beautiful trees, running streams, and trellised sum- 
mer-houses, — the garden of a prince, — of Guatamozin, the 
true hero of his country. 




CHAPTER IV. 

GUATAMOZIN AT HOME. 


G uatamozin inherited a great fortune, ducal rank, 
and an estate near Iztapalapan. Outside the city, 
midst a garden that extended for miles around, stood his 
palace, built in the prevalent style, one story high, but broad 


104 


THE FAIR GOD. 


and wide enough, to comfortably accommodate several thou- 
sand men. His retainers, a legion in themselves, inhabited 
it for the most part ; and whether soldier, artisan, or farmer, 
each had his quarters, his exclusive possession as against 
every one but the ’tzin. 

The garden was almost entirely devoted to the cultivation 
of fruits and flowers. Hundreds of slaves, toiling there 
constantly under tasteful supervision, made and kept it 
beautiful past description. Eivulets of pure water, spanned 
by bridges and bordered with flowers, ran through every 
part over beds of sand yellow as gold. The paths fre- 
quently led to artificial lagoons, delightful for the coolness 
that lingered about them, when the sun looked with his 
burning eye down upon the valley ; for they were fringed 
with willow and sycamore trees, all clad with vines as with 
garments ; and some were further garnished with little 
islands, plumed with palms, and made attractive by kiosks. 
Eor were these all. Fountains and cascades filled the air 
with sleepy songs ; orange-groves rose up, testifying to the 
clime they adorned ; and in every path small teules, on 
pedestals of stone, so mingled religion with the loveliness 
that there could be no admiration without worship. 

lo’ and Hualpa, marvelling at the beauty they beheld, 
pursued a path, strewn with white sand, and leading across 
the garden, to the palace. A few armed men loitered about 
the portal, but allowed them to approach without question. 
From the antechamber they sent their names to the ’tzin, 
and directly the slave returned with word to lo’ to follow 
him. 

The study into which the prince was presently shown was 
furnished with severe plainness. An arm-chair, if such it 
may be called, some rude tables and uncushioned benches, 
offered small encouragement to idleness. 

Sand, glittering like crushed crystal, covered the floor, 


GUATAMOZIN AT HOME, 


105 


and, instead of tapestry, the walls were hung with maps of 
the Empire, and provinces the most distant. Several piles 
of MSS., — the hooks of the Aztecs, — with parchment and 
writing-materials, lay on a table ; and half concealed amongst 
them was a harp, such as we have seen in the hands of the 
royal minstrels. 

“ Welcome, lo’, welcome ! ” said the 'tzin, in his fuU voice. 
“You have come at length, after so many promises, — . 
come last of all my friends. When you were here before, 
you were a child, and I a hoy like you now. Let us go and 
talk it over.” And leading him to a bench by a window, 
they sat down. 

“ I remember the visit,” said lo’. “ It was many years 
ago. You were studying then, and I find you studying yet.” 

A serious thought rose to the 'tzin’s mind, and his smile 
was clouded. 

“ You do not understand me, lo’. Shut up in your father’s 
palace, your life is passing too dreamily. The days with 
you are like waves of the lake : one rolls up, and, scarcely 
mumming, breaks on the shore; another succeeds, — that 
is all. Hear, and believe me. He who would be wise 
must study. There are many who live for themselves, a 
few who live for their race. Of the first class, no thought 
is required ; they eat, sleep, are merry, and die, and have no 
hall in heaven : hut the second must think, tod, and be 
patient ; they must know, and, if possible, know everything. 
God and ourselves are the only sources of knowledge. I 
would not have you despise humanity, but all that is 
from ourselves is soon learned. There is but one inex- 
haustible fountain of intelligence, and that is Nature, the 
God Supreme. See those volumes ; they are of men, fuU 
of wisdom, hut nothing original ; they are borrowed from 
the hook of deity, — the always-opened hook, of which the 
sky is one chapter, and earth the other. Very deep are the 
6 * 


106 


THE FAIR GOD. 


lessons of life and heaven there taught. I confess to you, 
lo’, that I aspire to he of those whose lives are void of self- 
ishness, who live for others, for their country. Your father’s 
servant, I would serve him understandingly ; to do so, I 
must he wise ; and I cannot be wise without patient study.” 

lo’s unpractised mind but half understood the philosophy 
to which he listened ; but when the ’tzin called himself his 
father’s servant, Acatlan’s words recurred to the boy. 

0 ’tzin,” he said, “ they are not all like you, so good, so 
true. There have been some telling strange stories about you 
to the king.” 

“ About me ? ” 

“ They say you want to be king,” — the listener’s face 
was passive, — and that on Quetzal’s day you were looking 
for opportunity to attack my father.” Still there was no sign 
of emotion. “ Your staying at home, they say, is but a pre- 
tence to cover your designs.” 

“ And what more, lo’ 1 ” 

They say you are taking soldiers into your pay ; that 
you give money, and practise all manner of arts, to become 
popular in Tenochtitlan ; and that your delay in entering the 
arena on the day of the combat had something to do with 
your conspiracy.” 

For a moment the noble countenance of the ’tzin was dis- 
turbed. 

“ A lying catalogue ! But is that all 1 ” 

No,” — and lo’s voice trembled, — “I am a secret mes- 
senger from the queen Tecalco, my mother. She bade me 
say to you, that last night Iztlil’, the Tezcucan, had audience 
with the king, and asked Tula for his wife.” 

Guatamozin sprang from his seat more pallid than ever in 
battle. 

“ And what said Montezuma ^ ” 

“ This morning he came to the queen, my mother, and told 


GUATAMOZIN AT HOME. 


107 


her about it ; on your account she objected ; but he became 
angry, spoke harshly of you, and swore Tula should not wed 
with you ; he would banish you first.” 

Through the silent cell the Tzin strode gloomily ; the blow 
weakened him. Mualox was wrong ; men cannot make them- 
selves almost gods ; by having many ills, and bearing them 
bravely, they can only become heroes. After a long struggle 
he resumed his calmness and seat. 

“ What more from the queen 1 ” 

“ Only, that as she was helpless, she left everything to 
you. She dares not oppose the king.” 

“ I understand ! ” exclaimed the ’tzin, starting from the 
bench again. “ The Tezcucan is my enemy. Crossing the 
lake, night before the combat, he told me he loved Tula, and 
charged me with designs against the Empire, and cursed the 
king and his crown. Next day he fought under my chal- 
lenge. The malice of a mean soul cannot be allayed by kind- 
ness. But for me the tamanes would have buried him with 
the Tlascalans. I sent him to my house ; my slaves tende^l 
him ; yet his hate was only sharpened.” 

He paced the floor to and fro, speaking vehemently. 

“The ingrate charges me with aspiring to the throne. Judge 
me, holy gods ! Judge how willingly I would lay down my 
life to keep the crown where it is ! He says my palace has 
been open to men of the army. It was always so, — I am a 
warrior. I have consulted them about the Empire, but 
always as a subject, never for its ill. Such charges I 
laugh at ; but that I sought to slay the king is too horrible 
for endurance. On the day of the combat, about the time of 
the assemblage, I went to the Cfi of Quetzal’ for blessing. I 
saw no smoke or other sign of fire upon the tower. Mualox 
was gone, and I trembled lest the fire should be dead. I 
climbed up, and found only a few living embers. There 
were no fagots on the roof, nor in the court-yard ; the shrine 


108 


THE FAIR GOD. 


was abandoned, Mualox old. The desolation appealed to 
me. The god seemed to claim my service. I broke my 
spear and shield, and flung the fragments into the urn, then 
hastened to the palace, loaded some tamanes with wood, and 
went back to the Cu. I was not too late there ; but, hurrying 
to the tiangueZy I found myself almost dishonored. So was 
I kept from the arena ; that service to the god is now helping 
my enemy as proof that I was waiting on a housetop to mur- 
der my king and kinsman ! Alas ! I have only slaves to bear 
witness to the holy work that kept me on the temple. Much 
I fear the gods are making the king blind for his ruin and 
the ruin of us all. He believes the strangers on the coast 
are from the Sun, when they are but men. Instead of war 
against them, he is thinking of embassies and presents. How, 
more than ever, he needs the support of friends ; but he di- 
vides his family against itself, and confers favors on enemies. 
I see the danger. Unfriendly gods are moving against us, 
not in the strangers, but in our own divisions. Eemember 
the prophecy of Mualox, * The race of Azatlan is ended for- 
ever.’ ” 

The speaker stopped his walking, and his voice became 
low and tremulous. 

“ Yet I love him ; he has been kind ; he gave me com- 
mand j through his graciousness I have dwelt unmolested in 
this palace of my father. I am bound to him by love and law. 
As he has been my friend, I will be his ; when his peril is 
greatest, I will be truest. Hothing but ill from him to Ana- 
huac can make me his enemy. So, so, — let it ^ pass. I trust 
the future to the gods.” 

Then, as if seeking to rid himself of the bitter subject, he 
turned to lo’. “ Did not some one come with you ] ” 

The boy told what he knew of Hualpa. 

‘‘ I take him to be no common fellow ; he has some proud 
ideas. I think you would like him.” 


GUATAMOZIN AT HOME. 


109 


I will try your hunter, lo’. And* if he is what you say 
of him, I will accept his service.” 

And they went immediately to the antechamber, where 
Hualpa saluted the 'tzin. The latter surveyed his fine person 
approvingly, and said, I am told you wish to enter my ser- 
vice. Were you ever in battle ? ” 

The hunter told his story with his wonted modesty. 

Well, the chase is a good school for warriors. It trains 
the thews, teaches patience and endurance, and sharpens the 
spirit’s edge. Let us to the garden. A hand to retain 
skill must continue its practice ; like a good memory, it is 
the better for exercise. Come, and I will show you how I 
keep prepared for every emergency of combat.” And so say- 
ing, the ’tzin led the visitors out. 

They went to the garden, followed by the retainers loung- 
ing at the door. A short walk brought them to a space sur- 
rounded by a copse of orange-trees, strewn with sand, and 
broad enough for a mock battle ; a few benches about the 
margin afforded accommodation to spectators ; a stone house 
at the northern end served for armory, and was full of arms 
and armor. A glance assured the visitors that the place had 
been prepared expressly for training. Some score or more 
of warriors, in the military livery of the ’tzin, already occu- 
pied a portion of the field. Upon his appearance they 
quitted their games, and closed around him with respectful 
salutations. 

“ How now, my good Chinantlan ! ” he said, pleasantly. 
“ Did I not award you a prize yesterday ? There are few in 
the valley who can excel you in launching the spear.” 

“ The plume is mine no longer,” replied the warrior. ‘‘ I 
was beaten last night. The winner, however, is a country- 
man.” 

A countryman ! You Chinantlans seem bom to the 
spear. Where is the man ? ” 


no 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The victor stepped Ibrward, and drew up before the mas- 
ter, who regarded his brawny limbs, sinewy neck, and 
bold eyes with undisguised admiration ; so an artist would 
regard a picture or a statue. Above the fellow’s helm floated 
a plume of scarlet feathers, the trophy of his superior skill. 

Get your spear,” said the ’tzin. “ I bring you a com- 
petitor.” 

The spear was brought, an ugly weapon in any hand. The 
head was of copper, and the shaft sixteen feet long. The 
rough Chinantlan handled it with a loving grip. 

“ Have you such in Tihuanco ? ” asked Guatamozin. 

Hualpa balanced the weapon and laughed. 

‘‘We have only javelins, — mere reeds to this. Unless 
to hold an enemy at bay, I hardly know its use. Certainly, 
it is not for casting.” 

“ Set the mark, men. We will give the stranger a lesson. 
Set it to the farthest throw.” 

A pine picket was then set up a hundred feet away, pre- 
senting a target of the height and breadth of a man, to 
which a shield was bolted breast-high from the sand. 

“ How give the Chinantlan room ! ” 

The wearer of the plume took his place ; advancing one 
foot, he lifted the spear above his head with the right hand, 
poised it a moment, then hurled it from him, and struck the 
picket a palm’s breadth below the shield. 

“ Out, out ! ” cried the ’tzin. “ Bring me the spear ; I 
have a mind to wear the plume myself.” 

When it was brought him, he cast it lightly as a child 
would toss a weed ; yet the point drove clanging through the 
brazen base of the shield, and into the picket behind. Amid 
the applause of the sturdy warriors he said to Hualpa, — 

“ Get ready ; the hunter must do something for the honor 
of his native hills.” 

“ I cannot use a spear in competition with Guatamozin,” 


GUATAMOZIN AT HOME. 


Ill 


said Hualpa, with brightening eyes ; “ but if he will have 
brought a javelin, a good comely weapon, I will show him 
my practice.” 

A slender-shafted missile, about half the length of the 
spear, was produced from the armory, and examined care- 
fully. 

“ See, good ’tzin, it is not true. Let me have another.” 

The next one was to his satisfaction. 

“ Now,” he said, “ set the target thrice a hundred feet 
away. If the dainty living of Xoli have not weakened my 
arm, I will at least strike yon shield.” 

The bystanders looked at each other wonderingly, and the 
’tzin was pleased. He had not lost a word or a motion of 
Hualpa’s. The feat undertaken was difficult and but seldom 
achieved successfully ; but the aspirant was confident, and 
he manifested the will to which aU achievable things are 
possible. 

The target was reset, and the Tihuancan took the stand. 
Eesting the shaft on the pahn of his left hand, he placed the 
fingers of his right against the butt, and drew the graceful 
weapon arm-length backward. It described an arc in the 
air, and to the astonishment of aU fell in the shield a httle 
left of the centre. 

‘‘Tell me, Hualpa,” said Guatamozin, “are there more 
hunters in Tihuanco who can do such a deed 1 I will have 
you bring them to me.” 

The Tihuancan lowered his eyes. “ I grieve to say, good 
’tzin, that I know of none. I excelled them aU. But I can 
promise that in my native province there are hundreds braver 
than I, ready to serve you to the death.” 

“ Well, it is enough. I intended to try you further, and 
with other weapons, but not now. He who can so wield a 
javelin must know to bend a bow and strike with a maqua^ 
kuitl. I accept your service. Let us to the palace.” 


112 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Hualpa thrilled with delight. Already he felt himself in 
the warrior’s path, with a glory won. AU his dreams were 
about to be realized. In respectful silence he followed Guata- 
mozin, and as they reached the portal steps, lo’ touched his 
arm : 

“ Eemember our compact on the lake,” he whispered. 

The hunter put his arm lovingly about the prince, and so 
they entered the house. And that day Fate wove a brother- 
hood of three hearts which was broken only by death. 


CHAPTEE V. 

NIGHT AT THE CHALCAN’s. 

HE same day, in the evening, Xoli lay on a lounge by 



--L the fountain under his portico. His position gave 
him the range of the rooms, which glowed like day, and 
resounded with life. He could even distinguish the occupa- 
tions of some of his guests. In fair view a group was lis- 
tening to a minstrel ; beyond them he occasionally caught 
sight of girls dancing ; and every moment peals of laughter 
floated out from the chambers of play. A number of per- 
sons, whose arms and attire published them of the nobler 
class, sat around the Chalcan in the screen of the curtains, 
conversing, or listlessly gazing out on the square. 

Gradually Xoli’s revery became more dreamy ; sleep stole 
upon his senses, and shut out the lullaby of the fountain, 
and drowned the influence of his cuisine. His patrons after 
a while disappeared, and the watchers on the temples told the 
passing time without awakening him. Very happy was the 
Chalcan. 

The slumber was yet strong upon him, when an old man 


NIGHT AT THE CHALCAN'S. 


113 


and a girl came to the portico. The former, decrepit and 
ragged, seated himself on the step. Scanty hair hung in 
white locks over his face ; and grasping a staff, he rested his 
head wearily upon his hands, and talked to himself. 

The girl approached the Chalcan with the muffled tread of 
fear. She was clad in the usual dress of her class, — a 
white chemise, with several skirts short and embroidered, over 
which, after being crossed at the throat, a red scarf dropped 
its tasseled ends nearly to her heels. The neatness of the 
garments more than offset their cheapness. Above her fore- 
head, in the fillet that held the mass of black hair off her face, 
leaving it fully exposed, there was the gleam of a common 
jewel ; otherwise she was without ornament. In all beauty 
there is — nay, must be — an idea ; so that a countenance 
to he handsome even, must in some way at sight quicken a 
sentiment or stir a memory in the beholder. It was so here. 
To look at the old man’s guardian was to know that she had 
a sorrow to tell, and to pity her before it was told ; to be 
sure that under her tremulous anxiety there was a darksome 
story and an extraordinary purpose, the signs of which, too 
fine for the materialism of words, but plain to the sympa- 
thetic inner consciousness, lurked in the corners of her 
mouth, looked from her great black eyes, and blent with 
every action. 

Gliding over the marble, she stopped behind the sleeper, 
and spoke, without awakening him ; her voice was too 
like the murmur of the fountain. Frightened at the 
words, low as they were, she hesitated; but a look at 
the old man reassured her, and she called again. Xoli 
started. 

“ How now, mistress ! ” he said, angrily, reaching for her 
hand. 

“ I want to see Xoli, the Chalcan,” she replied, escaping 
his touch. 

H 


114 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ What have you to do with him 1 ” 

He sat up, and looked at her in wonder. 

“ What have you to do with him ? ” he repeated, in a 
kindlier tone. 

Her face kindled with a sudden intelligence. “ Xoli ! 
The gods be praised ! And their blessing on you, if you 
will do a kind deed for a countryman ! ” 

“Well! But what beggar is that? Came he with 
you ? ” 

“It is of him I would speak. Hear me ! ” she asked, 
drawing near him again. “ He is poor, but a Chalcan. If 
you have memory of the city of your birth, be merciful to 
his chdd.” 

“ His child ! Who 1 Xay, it is a beggar’s tale ! Ho, 
fellow I How many times have I driven you away already ! 
How dare you return ! ” 

Slowly the old man raised his head from his staff, and 
turned his face to the speaker ; there was no light there ; he 
was blind ! 

“ By the holy fires, no trick this ! Say on, girl. He is a 
Chalcan, you said.” 

“ A countryman of yours,” — and her tears feU fast. “ A 
hut is standing where the causeway leads from Chaleo to 
Iztapalapan ; it is my father’s. He was happy under its 
roof ; for, though blind and poor, he could hear my mother’s 
voice, which was the kindliest thing on earth to him. But 
Our Mother called her on the coming of a bright morning, 
and since then he has asked for bread, when I had not a 
tuna * to give him. 0 Xoli ! did you but know what it 
is to ask for bread, when there is none ! I am his child, 
and can think of but one way to quiet his cry.” And she 
paused, looking in his face for encouragement. 

“ Tell me your name, girl ; tell me your name, then 
* A species of fig. 


NIGHT AT THE CHALCAN’S. 


115 


go on,” he said, with a trembling lip, for his soul was 
clever. 

At that instant the old man moaned querulously, “Yeteve, 
Yeteve ! ” 

She went, and clasped his neck, and spoke to him sooth- 
ingly. Xoli’s eyes became humid ; down in the depths of 
his heart an emotion grew strangely warm. 

“ Yeteve, Yeteve ! ” he repeated, musingly, thinking the 
syllables soft and pretty. “ Come ; stand here again, 
Yeteve,” said he, aloud, when the dotard was pacified. 

“ He wants Bread, you say : how would you supply him ? ” 

You are rich. You want many slaves ; and the law 
permits the poor to sell themselves.* I would he your 
slave, — asking no price, except that you give the beggar 
bread.” 

“ A slave ! Sell yourself ! ” he cried, in dismay. A . 
slave ! Why, you are beautiful, Yeteve, and have not be- 
thought yourself that some day the gods may want you for 
a victim.” 

She was silent. 

What can you do ? Dance 1 Sing 1 Can you weave soft 
veils and embroider golden flowers, like ladies in the pal- 
aces ? If you can, no slave in Anahuac will be so peerless ; 
the lords wiU bid more cocoa than you can carry ; you will 
be rich.” 

“ If so, then can I do all you have said.” 

And she ran, and embraced the old man, saying, “ Patience, 
patience ! In a little while we will have bread, and be 
rich. Yes,” she continued, returning to the Chalcan, “ they 
taught me in the teocallis, where they would have had me as 
priestess.” 

It is good to be a priestess, Yeteve ; you should have 
stayed there.” 


* Prescott, Conq. of Mexico. 


116 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ But I did so love the little hut by the causeway. And 
I loved the beggar, and they let me go.” 

And now you wish to sell yourself ? I want slaves, but 
not such as you, Yeteve. I want those who can work, — 
slaves whom the lash will hurt, but not kill. Besides, you 
are worth more cocoa than I can spare. Keep back your 
tears. I will do better than buy you myself. I will seU 
you, and to-night. Here in my house you shall dance for 
the bidders. I know them all. He shall be brave and rich 
and clever who buys, — clever and brave, and the owner of 
a palace, full of bread for the beggar, and love for Yeteve.” 

Clapping his hands, a slave appeared at the door. 

“ Take yon beggar, and give him to eat. Lead him, — he 
is blind. Come, child, foUow me.” 

He summoned his servants, and bade them publish the 
sale in every apartment ; then he led the girl to the hall 
used for the exhibition of his own dancing-girls. It was 
roomy and finely lighted ; the floor was of polished marble ; 
a blue drop-curtain extended across the northern end, in 
front of which were rows of stools, handsomely cushioned, 
for spectators. Music, measured for the dance, greeted the 
poor priestess, and had a magical effect upon her ; her eyes 
brightened, a smile played about her mouth. Hever was 
the chamber of the rich Chalcan graced by a creature fairer 
or more devoted. 

“ A priestess of the dance needs no teaching from me,” said 
Xoli, patting her flushed cheek. “ Get ready ; they are com- 
ing. Beware of the marble ; and when I clap my hands, begin.” 

She looked around the hall once ; not a point escaped 
her. Springing to the great curtain, and throwing her robe 
away, she stood before it in her simple attire ; and no studied 
effect of art could have been more beautiful ; motionless and 
lovely, against the relief of the blue background, she seemed 
actually spirituelle. 


NIGHT AT THE CHALCAN’S. 


117 


Upon the announcement of the auction, the patrons of the 
house hurried to the scene. Voluntary renunciation of 
freedom was common enough among the poorer classes in 
Tenochtitlan, hut a transaction of the kind under the auspices 
of the rich broker was a novelty; so that curiosity and 
exj)ectation ran high. The nobles, as they arrived, occupied 
the space in front of the curtain, or seated themselves, 
marvelling at the expression of her countenance. 

The music had not ceased ; and the bidders being gath- 
ered, Xoli, smiling with satisfaction, stepped forward to give 
the signal, when an uproar of merriment announced the 
arrival of a party of the younger dignitaries of the court, — 
amongst them Iztlil’, the Tezcucan, and Maxtla, chief of the 
guard, the former showing signs of quick recovery from his 
wounds, the latter superbly attired. 

“ Hold ! What have we here 1 ” cried the Tezcucan, sur- 
veying the girl. “ Has this son of Chaleo been robbing the 
palace 1 ” 

“ The temples, my lord Iztlil’ ! He has robbed the tem- 
ples ! By all the gods, it is the priestess Yeteve ! ” answered 
Maxtla, amazed. ‘‘ Say, Chalcan, what does priestess of the 
Blessed Lady in such unhallowed den 1 ” 

The broker explained. 

“ Good, good ! ” shouted the new-comers. 

‘‘ Begin, Xoli ! A thousand cocoa for the priestess, — 
millions of bread for the beggar ! ” This from Maxtla. 

‘‘ Only a thousand ? ” said Iztlil’, scornfully. Only a 
thousand! Five thousand to begin with, more after she 
dances.” 

Xoli gave the signal, and the soul of the Chalcan girl 
broke forth in motion. Dancing had been her rdle in the 
religious rites of the temple ; many a time the pabas around 
the altar, allured by her matchless grace, had turned from 
the bleeding heart indifferent to its auguration. And she 


118 


THE FAIR GOD. 


had always danced moved by no warmer impulse than duty ; 
so that the prompting of the spirit in the presence of a 
strange auditory free to express itself, like that she now 
faced, came to her for the first time. The dance chosen was 
one of the wild, quick, pulsating figures wont to be given in 
thanksgiving for favorable tokens from the deity. The steps 
were irregular and difficult ; a great variety of posturing was 
required ; the head, arms, and feet had each their parts, all 
to be rendered in harmony. At the commencement she was 
frightened by the ecstasy that possessed her ; suddenly the 
crowd vanished, and she saw only the beggar, and him 
wanting bread. Then her form became divinely gifted ; she 
bounded as if winged ; advanced and retreated, a moment 
swaying like a reed, the next whirling like a leaf in a circling 
wind. The expression of her countenance throughout was 
so full of soul, so intense, rapt, and beautiful, that the 
lords were spell-bound. When the figure was ended, there 
was an outburst of voices, some bidding, others applauding ; 
though most of the spectators were silent from pity and 
admiration. 

Of the competitors the loudest was Iztlil’. In his excite- 
ment, he would have sacrificed his province to become the 
owner of the girl. Maxtla opposed him. 

“ Five thousand cocoa ! Hear, Chalcan ! ” shouted the 
Tezcucan. 

A thousand better ! ” answered Maxtla, laughing at the 
cacique’s rage. 

“By all the gods, I will have her! Put me down a 
thousand quills of gold ! ” 

“ A thousand quills above him ! Hot bread, but riches 
for the beggar 1 ” replied Maxtla, half in derision. 

“ Two thousand, — only two thousand quills ! More, 
noble lords ! She is worth a palace 1 ” sung Xoli, trembling 
with excitement ; for in such large bids he saw an extra- 


NIGHT AT THE CH ALCAN’S. 


119 


ordinary loan. Just then, under the parted curtain of the 
principal doorway, he beheld one dear to every lover of 
Tenochtitlan ; he stopped. All eyes turned in that direction, 
and a general exclamation followed, — “ The ’tzin, the ’tzin ! ” 

Guatamozin was in full military garb, and armed. As he 
lingered by the door to comprehend the scene, what with his 
height, brassy helm, and embossed shield, he looked like a 
Greek returned from Troy. 

“ Yeteve, the priestess ! ” he said. “ Impossible ! ” 

He strode to the front. 

How 1 ” he said, placing his hand on her head. “ Has 
Yeteve flown the temple to become a slave?” 

Up to this time, it would seem that, in the fixedness of 
her purpose, she had been blind to all but the beggar, and 
deaf to everything but the music. Now she knelt at the 
feet of the noble Aztec, sobbing broken-heartedly. The 
spectators were moved with sympathy, — all save one. 

“ Who stays the sale ? By all the gods, Chalcan, you shall 
proceed ! ” 

Scarcely had the words been spoken, or the duller facul- 
ties understood them, before Guatamozin confronted the 
speaker, his javelin drawn, and his shield in readiness. 
Naturally his countenance was womanly gentle; but the 
transition of feeling was mighty, and those looking upon him 
then shrank with dread ; it was as if their calm blue lake 
had in an instant darkened with storm. Face to face he 
stood with the Tezcucan, the latter unprepared for combat, 
but in nowise daunted. In their angry attitude a seer 
might have read the destiny of Anahuac. 

One thrust of the javelin would have sent the traitor to 
Mictlan ; the Empire, as well as the wrongs of the lover, 
called for it ; but before the veterans, recovering from their 
panic, could rush between the foemen, all the ’tzin’s calmness 
returned. 


120 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Xoli,” he said, “ a priestess belongs to the temple, and 
cannot he sold ; such is the law. The sale would have sent 
your heart, and that of her purchaser, to the Blessed 
Lady. Eemove the girl. I will see that she is taken 
to a place of safety. Here is gold ; give the beggar what he 
wants, and keep him until to-morrow. — And, my lords and 
brethren,” he added, turning to the company, “ I did not 
think to behave so unseemly. It is only against the enemies 
of our country that we should turn our arms. Blood is 
sacred, and accursed is his hand who sheds that of a coun- 
tryman in petty quarrel. I pray you, forget all that has 
passed.” And with a low obeisance to them, he walked 
away, taking with him the possibility of further rencounter. 

He had just arrived from his palace at Iztapalapan. 

CHAPTEK VI. 

THE CHINAMPA. 

B ETWEEH Tula, the child of Tecalco, and Henetzin, 
daughter and child of Acatlan, there existed a sisterly 
affection. The same sports had engaged them, and they had 
been, and yet were, inseparable. Their mothers, themselves 
friends, encouraged the intimacy ; and so their past lives had 
vanished, like two summer clouds borne away by a soft south 
wind. 

The evening after Iztlil’s overture of marriage was deepen- 
ing over lake Tezcuco ; the breeze became murmurous and 
like a breath, and all the heavens filled with starlight. Cloud- 
less must be the morrow to such a night ! 

So thought the princess Tula. Won by the beauty of the 
evening, she had flown from the city to her chinampa^ which 


THE CHINAMPA. 


121 


vaci lying anchored in a quarter of the lake east of the cause- 
way to Tepejaca, beyond the noise of the town, and where 
no sound less agreeable than the plash of light waves could 
disturb her dreams. 

A retreat more delightful would be a task for fancy. 
The artisan who knitted the timbers of the chinampa had 
doubtless been a lover of the luxuriant, and built as only a 
lover can build. The waves of the lake had not been over- 
looked in his plan ; he had measured their height, and the 
depth and width of their troughs, when the weather was calm 
and the water gentle. So he knew both what rocking they 
would make, and what rocking would be pleasantest to a 
delicate soul ; for, as there were such souls, there were also 
such £a?tisans in Tenochtitlan. 

Viewed from a distance, the chinampa looked like an island 
of flowers. Except where the canopy of a white pavilion 
rose from the midst of the green beauty, it was covered to 
the water’s edge with blooming shrubbery, which, this even- 
ing, was luminous with the light of lamps. The radiance, 
glinting through the foliage, tinted the atmosphere above it 
with mellow rays, and seemed the visible presence of en- 
chantment. 

The humid night breeze blew softly under the raised walls 
of the pavilion, within which, in a hammock that swung to 
and fro regularly as the chinampa obeyed the waves, lay 
Tula and Nenetzin. 

They were both beautiful, but different in their beauty. 
Tula’s face was round and of a transparent olive complexion, 
without being fair ; her eyes were hazel, large, clear, and full 
of melancholy earnestness; masses of black hair, evenly 
parted, fell over her temples, and were gathered behind in a 
simple knot ; with a tall, full form, her presence and man- 
ner were grave and very queenly. Whereas, i^enetzin’s 
eyes, though dark, were bright with the light of laughter; 

6 


122 


THE FAIR GOD. 


her voice was low and sweet, and her manner that of a 
hoyden. One was the noble woman, the other a jocund 
child. 

It is late, Tula ; our father may want us. Let us return.” 

“ Be patient a little longer. The Tzin will come for us ; 
he promised to, and you know he never forgets.” 

“Patience, sister! Ah ! you may say it, you who know ; 
but how am I to practise it, — I, who have only a ho'pe 1 ” 

“ What do you mean, Nenetzin 1 ” 

The girl leaned back, and struck a suspended hoop, in 
which was perched a large parrot. The touch, though light, 
interrupted the pendulous motion of the bird, and it pecked 
at her hand, uttering a gruff scream of rage. 

“ You spoke of something I know, and you hope. What 
do you mean, child 1 ” 

Nenetzin withdrew her hand from the perch, looked in 
the questioner’s face, then crept up to win her embrace. 

“ 0 Tula, I know you are learned and thoughtful. Often 
after the banquet, when the hall was cleared, and the music 
begun, have I seen you stand apart, silent, while all others 
danced or laughed. See, your eyes are on me now, but more 
in thought than love. 0, indeed, you are wise ! TeU me, 
did you ever think of me as a woman 1 ” 

The smile deepened on the lips, and burned in the eyes of 
the queenly auditor. 

“ No, never as a woman,” continued Nenetzin. “ Listen 
to me, Tula. The other night I was asleep in your arms, — 
I felt them in love around me, — and I dreamed so strangely.” 

“ Of what 'I ” asked Tula, seeing slie hesitated. 

“ I dreamed there entered at the palace door a being with 
a countenance white like snow, while its hair and beard were 
yellow, like the silk of the maize ; its eyes were blue, like 
the deep water of the lake, but bright, so bright that they 
terrified while they charmed me. Thinking of it now, 0 


THE CHINAMPA. 


123 


Tula, it was a man, though it looked like a god. He entered 
at the palace door, and came into the great chamber where 
our father sat with his chiefs ; but he came not barefooted 
and in nequen ; he spoke as he were master, and our father 
a slave. Looking and listening, a feeling thrilled me, — 
thrilled warm and deep, and was a sense of joy, like a bless- 
ing of Tlalac. Since then, though I have acted as a girl, I 
have felt as a woman.” 

“Very strange, indeed, Nenetzin!” said Tula, playfully. 
“ But you forget : I asked you what I know, and you only 
hopel” 

“ I will explain directly ; but as you are wise, first tell me 
what that feeling was.” 

“ Hay, I can tell you whence the water flows, but I cannot 
teU you what it is.” 

“ Well, since then I have had a hope — ” 

“WeU?” 

“ A hope of seeing the white face and blue eyes.” 

“ I begin to understand you, Henetzin. But go on ; what 
is it I know 'I ” 

“ What I dreamed, — a great warrior, who loves you. 
You wiU see him to-night, and then, O Tula, — then 
you may teU of the feeling that thrilled me so in my 
dream.” 

And with a blush and a laugh, she laid her face in Tula’s 
bosom. 

Both were silent awhile, Nenetzin with her face hidden, 
and Tula looking wistfully up at the parrot swinging lazily 
in the perch. The dream was singular, and made an im- 
pression on the mind of the one as it had on the heart of 
the other. 

“ Look up, 0 Nenetzin ! ” said Tula, after a while. “ Look 
up, and I win tell you something that has seemed as strange 
to me as the dream to you.” 


i24 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The girl raised her head. 

“Did you ever see Mualox, the old paha of Quetzal’ ] 
No ? Well, he is said to he a prophet ; a look of his will 
make a warrior tremble. He is the friend of Guatamozin, 
who always goes to his shrine to worship the god. I went 
there once to make an offering. I climbed the steps, went 
in where the image is, laid my gift on the altar, and turned 
to depart, when a man came and stood by the door, wearing 
a surplice, and with long, ffowing white heard. He looked 
at me, then bowed, and kissed the pavement at my feet. I 
shrank away. ‘ Fear not, 0 Tula ! ’ he said. ‘ I bow to 
you, not for what you are, but for what you shall be. You 
shall he queen in your father^ s palace ! ’ With that he arose, 
and left me to descend.” 

“ Said he so ] How did he know you were Tula, the 
king’s daughter ? ” 

“ That is part of the mystery. I never saw him before ; 
nor, until I told the story to the ’tzin, did I know the paba. 
Now, 0 sister, can the believer of a dream refuse to believe 
a priest and prophet h ” 

“ A queen ! You a queen ! I will kiss you now, and 
pray for you then.” And they threw their arms lovingly 
around each other. 

Then the bird above them awoke, and, with a fluttering 
of its scarlet wings, cried, “ Guatamo ! Guatamo ! ” — taught 
it by the patient love of Tula. 

“ 0, what a time that will be ! ” Nenetzin went on, with 
sparkling eyes. “ What a garden we will make of Anahuac ! 
How happy we shall be ! None but the brave and beauti- 
ful shall come around us ; for you will be queen, my 
Tula.” 

“ Yes ; and Nenetzin shall have a lord, he whom she 
loves best, for she will be as peerless as I am powerful,” 
answered Tula, humoring the mood. “ Whom will she 


THE CHINAMPA. 


125 


take % Let us decide now, — there are so many to choosa 
from. What says she to Cacama, lord of Tezcuco % ” 

The girl made no answer. 

“ There is the lord of Chinantla, once a king, who has 
already asked our father for a -vvife.” 

Still Nenetzin was silent. 

“ Neither of them ! Then there are left but the lord ol 
Tlacopan, and Iztlil’, the Tezcucan.” 

At the mention of the last name, a strong expression of 
disgust burst from Nenetzin. 

“ A tiger from the museum first ! It could be taught to 
love me. No, none of them for me ; none, Tula, if you 
let me have my way, but the white face and blue eyes I saw 
in my dream.” 

“ You are mad, Nenetzin. That was a god, not a man.” 

“ All the better, Tula ! The god will forgive me for lov- 
ing him.” 

Before Tula spoke again, Guatamozin stepped within the 
pavilion. Nenetzin was noisy in expressing her gladness, 
wrhile the elder sister betrayed no feeling by words ; only 
her smile and the glow of her eyes intensified. 

The Tzin sat down by the hammock, and with his strong 
hand staying its oscillation, talked lightly. As yet Tula 
knew nothing of the proposal of the Tezcucan, or of the favor 
the king had given it ; but the ken of love is as acute as an 
angel’s; sorrow of the cherished heart cannot be hidden 
from it ; so in his very jests she detected a trouble ; but, 
thinking it had relation to the condition of the Empire, she 
asked nothing, while he, loath to disturb her happiness, coun- 
selled darkly of his own soul. 

After a while, as Nenetzin prayed to return to the city, 
they left the pavilion ; and, following a little path through 
the teeming shrubbery, and under the boughs of orange- 
trees, overarched like an arbor, they came to the ’tzin’s 


126 


THE FAIR GOD. 


canoe. The keeper of the chinampa was there with great 
bundles of flowers. Tula and Nenetzin entered the vessel ; 
then was the time for the slave ; so he threw in the bundles 
until they were nearly buried under them, — his gifts of 
love and allegiance. When the rowers pushed off, he knelt 
with his face to the earth. 

Gliding homeward through the dusk, Guatamozin told the 
story of Yeteve ; and Tula, moved by the girl’s devotion, 
consented to take her into service, — at least, until the tem- 
ple claimed its own. 


CHAPTER VII. 


COURT GOSSIP. 



PTN'CH of your snuff, Xoli ! To be out thus early 


dulls a nice brain, which nothing clarifies like snuff. 
By the way, it is very strange that when one wants a good 
article of any kind, he can only get it at the palace or of 
you. So, a pinch, my fat fellow ! ” 

“ I can commend my snuff,” said the Chalcan, bowing 
very low, “ only a little less than the good taste of the most 
noble Maxtla.” 

While speaking, — the scene being in his pulque room, — 
he uncovered a gilded jar sitting upon the counter. 

“ Help yourself ; it is good to sneeze.” 

Maxtla snuffed the scented drug freely, then rushed to the 
door, and through eyes misty with tears of pleasure looked 
at the sun rising over the mountains. A fit of sneezing 
seized him, at the end of which, a slave stood by his elbow 
with a ewer of water and a napkin. He bathed his face. 
Altogether, it was apparent that sneezing had been reduced 
to an Aztec science. 


COURT GOSSIP. 


127 


Elegant ! By the Sun, I feel inspired I ” 

“ Ko doubt,” responded the Chalcan. Such ought to he 
the effect of tobacco and rose-leaves, moistened with dew. 
But tell me ; that tilmatli you are wearing is quite royal, — 
is it from the king 1 ” 

The young chief raised the folds of the mantle of plumaje, 
which he was sporting for the first time. Erom the king % 
No ; my tailor has just finished it.” 

“ Certainly, my lord. How dull I was ! You are prepar- 
ing for the banquet at the palace to-morrow night.” 

“You recollect the two thousand quills of gold I bid for 
your priestess the other evening,” said Maxtla, paying no 
attention to the remark. “ I concluded to change the invest- 
ment ; they are all in that collar and loop.” 

Xoli examined the loop. 

“ A chalchuite ! What jeweller in the city could sell you 
one so rich ? ” 

“ Not one. I bought it of Cacama. It is a crown jewel 
of Tezcuco.” 

“You were lucky, my lord. But, if you wiU allow me, 
what became of the priestess 1 Saw you ever such danc- 
ing T’ 

“You are late inquiring, Chalcan. The beggar was fast 
by starvation that night ; but you were nearer death. The 
story was told the king, - 7 - ah! you turn pale. Well you 
may, — and he swore, by the fires of the temple, if the girl 
had been sold he would have flayed alive both buyer and 
seller. Hereafter we had both better look more closely to 
the law.” 

“ But she moved my pity as it was never moved before ; 
moreover, she told me they had discharged her from the tem- 
ple.” 

“No matter ; the peril is over, and our hearts are our own. 
Yesterday I saw her in the train of the princess Tula. The 


128 


THE FAIR GOD. 


’tzin cared for her. But speaking of the princess, — the ban- 
quet to-morrow night will be spicy.” 

The Chalcan dropped the precious loop. Gossip that con- 
cerned the court was one of his special weaknesses. 

“You know,” continued Maxtla, “that the ’tzin has 
always been a favorite of the king’s — ” 

“As he always deserved to be.” 

“ Not so fast, Chalcan ! Keep your praise. You ought 
to know that nothing is so fickle as fortune ; that what 
was most popular yesterday may be most unpopular to-day. 
Hear me out. You also know that Iztlil’, the Tezcucan, was 
down in the royal estimation quite as much as the ’tzin was 
up ; on which account, more than anything else, he lost his 
father’s city.” 

Xoli rested his elbow on the counter, and listened eagerly. 

“ It has been agreed on all sides for years,” continued 
Maxtla, in his modulated voice, “ that the ’tzin and Tula 
were to be married upon her coming of age. No one else 
has presumed to pay her court, lest it might be an interfer- 
ence. Now, the whole thing is at an end. Iztlil’, not the 
’tzin, is the fortunate man.” 

“ Iztlil’ ! And to-morrow night ! ” 

“ The palace was alive last evening as with a swarming 
of bees. Some were indignant, — aU astonished. In fact, 
Xoli, I believe the ’tzin had as many friends as the king. 
Several courtiers openly defended him, notwithstanding his 
fall, — something that, to my knowledge, never happened 
before. The upshot was, that a herald went in state to Izta- 
palapan with a decree prohibiting the ’tzin from visiting 
Tenochtitlan, under any pretence, until the further pleasure 
of the king is made known to him.” 

“ Banished, banished ! But that the noble Maxtla told 


COURT GOSSIP. 


129 


by Wliich the result was brought about. Look you, Chalcan : 
the ’tzin loved the princess, and was contracted to her, and 
now conies this banishment just the day before the valley 
is called to witness her betrothal to the Tezcucan. Cer- 
tainly, it would ill become the ’tzin to be a guest at such a 
banquet.” 

“ I understand,” said Xoli, with a cunning smile. “ It 
was to save his pride that he was banished.” 

“ If to be a Chalcan is to be so stupid, I thank the gods 
for making me what I am! ” cried Maxtla, impatiently. “ What 
cares the great king for the pride of the enemy he would hum- 
ble 1 The banishment is a penalty, — it is ruin.” 

There was a pause, during which the Chalcan hung his 
head. 

Ah, Xoli ! The king has changed ; he used to be a 
warrior, loving warriors as the eagle loves its young. Xow 
— alas 1 I dare not speak. Time was when no envious- 
hearted knave could have made him believe that Guatamo- 
zin was hatching treason in his garden at Iztapalapan. Xow, 
surrounded by mewling priests, he sits in the depths of his 
palace, and trembles, and, like a credulous child, believes^ 
everything. ‘Woe is Tenochtitlan ! ’ said Mualox ; and^ 
the days strengthen the prophecy. But enough, — more 
than enough! Hist, Chalcan! What I have said and 
you listened to — yea, the mere listening — would suffice, 
if told in the right ears, tp_sen d us both str aightway to the 
tigers. I have paid you for your snuff, and the divine 
sneeze. In retailing, recollect, I am not the manufacturer. 
Farewell.” 

“ Stay a moment, most noble chief, — but a moment,” said 
the Chalcan. “ I have invented a drink which I desire you 
to inaugurate. If I may be counted a judge, it is fit for a 
god.” 

‘‘ A judge ! You 1 Where is the man who would deny 

6* I 


130 


THE FAIR GOD. 


you that excellence 1 Your days have been spent in the prac- 
tice; nay, your whole life has been one long, long drink. 
Make haste. I will wager pulque is chief in the compound.” 

The broker went out, and directly returned, bearing on a 
waiter a Cholulan goblet full of cool liquor, exquisitely 
colored with the rich blood of the cactus apple. Maxtla 
sipped, drank, then swore the drink was without a rival. 

‘‘ Look you, Chalcan. They say we are indebted to our 
heroes, our minstrels, and our priests, and I believe so ; but 
hereafter I shall go farther in the faith. This drink is worth 
a victory, is pleasant as a song, and has all the virtues of a 
prayer. Do not laugh. I am in earnest. You shall be 
canonized with the best of them. To show that I am no 
vain boaster, you shall come to the banquet to-morrow, and 
the king shall thank you. Put on your best tilmcUli, and 
above all else, beware that the vase holding this liquor is not 
empty when I caU for it. Farewell 1 ” 

CHAPTER VIII. 

GUATAMOZIN AND MUALOX. 

U P the steps of the old Ch of Quetzal’, early in the 
evening of the banquet, went Guatamozin unattended. 
As the royal interdiction rested upon his coming to the cap- 
ital, he was muffled in a priestly garb, which hid his face 
and person, but could not all disguise the stately bearing 
that so distinguished him. Climbing the steps slowly, and 
without halting at the top to note the signs of the city, all 
astir with life, he crossed the azoteas, entered the chamber 
most sanctified by the presence of the god, and before the 
image bowed awhile in prayer. Soon Mualox came in. 


GUATAMOZIN AND MUALOX. 


131 


“ Ask anything that is not evil, 0 best beloved of Quet- 
zal’, and it shall be granted,” said the paba, solemnly, laying 
a hand upon the visitor’s shoulder. “ I knew you were com- 
ing ; I saw you on the lake. Arise, my son.” 

Guatamozin stood up, and flung back his hood. 

“ The house is holy, Mualox, and I have come to speak 
of the things of life that have little to do with religion.” 

“ That is not possible. Everything has to do with life, 
which has all to do with heaven. Speak out. This pres- 
ence will keep you wise ; if your thoughts be of vTong, it 
is not likely you will give them speech in the very ear of 
Quetzal’.” 

Slowly the ’tzin then said, — 

‘‘Thanks, father. In what I have to say, I wiU be 
brief, and endeavor not to forget the presence. You love me, 
and I am come for counsel. You know how often those 
most discreet in the affairs of others are foolish in what con- 
cerns themselves. Long time ago you taught me the impor- 
tance of knowledge ; how it was the divine secret of happi- 
ness, and stronger than a spear to win victories, and better 
in danger than a shield seven times quilted. Now I have 
come to say that my habits of study have brought evil upon 
me ; out of the solitude in which I was toiling to lay up a 
great knowledge, a misfortune has arisen, father to my ruin. 
My stay at home has been misconstmed. Enemies have 
said I loved books less than power ; they charge that in the 
quiet of my gardens I have been taking council of my am- 
bition, which nothing satisfies but the throne ; and so they 
have estranged from me the love of the king. Here against 
his order, forbidden the city,” — and as he spoke he raised 
his head proudly, — “ forbidden the city, behold me, paba, a 
banished man ! ” 

Mualox smiled, and grim satisfaction was in the smile. 

“ If you seek sympathy,” he said, “ the errand is fruit- 


132 


THE FAIR GOD. 


less. I have no sorrow for what you call your misfor- 
tune.” 

** Let me understand you, father.” 

** I repeat, I have no sorrow for you. Why should 1 1 I 
see you as you should see yourself. You confirm the les- 
sons of which you complain. Not vainly that you wrought 
in solitude for knowledge, which, while I knew it would 
make you a mark for even kingly envy, I also intended 
should make you superior to misfortunes and kings. Under- 
stand you now 1 What matters that you are maligned 1 
What is banishment 'I They only liken you the more to 
Quetzal’, whose coming triumph, — heed me well, 0 ’tzin, — • 
whose coming triumph shall be your triumph.” 

The look and voice of the holy man were those of one 
with authority. 

For this time,” he continued, ‘‘and others like it, 
yet to come, I thought to arm your soul with a strong 
intelligence. Your life is to be a battle against evil ; fail not 
yourself in the beginning. Success will be equal to your 
wisdom and courage. But your story was not all told.” 

The ’tzin’s face flushed, and he replied, with some fal- 
tering, — 

“You have known and encouraged the love I bear the 
princess Tula, and counted on it as the means of some great 
fortune in store for me. Yet, in part at least, I am ban- 
ished on that account. 0 Mualox, the banquet which the 
king holds to-night is to make public the betrothal of Tula 
to Iztlil’, the Tezcucan ! ” 

“ Well, what do you intend 1 ” 

“ Nothing. Had the trouble been a friend’s, I might have 
advised him ; but being my own, I have no confidence in 
myself. I repose on your discretion and friendship.” 

Mualox softened his manner, and said, pleasantly at first, 
“ 0 ’tzin, is humanity all frailty ? Must chief and philoso- 


GUATAMOZIN AND MUALOX. 


133 


pher bow to the passion, like a slave or a dealer in wares 1 ” 
Suddenly he became serious ; his eyes shone full of the 
magnetism he used so often and so well. “ Can Guatamozin 
find nothing higher to occupy his mind than a trouble born 
of a silly love 1 Unmanned by such a trifle 1 Arouse ! 
Ponder the mightier interests in peril ! What is a woman, 
with all a lover’s gild about her, to the nation 1 ” 

‘‘ The nation ? ” repeated the ’tzin, slowly. 

The paba looked reverently up to the idol. “ I have with- 
drawn from the world, I live but for Quetzal’ and Anahuac. 
O, generously has the god repaid me ! He has given me to 
look out upon the future ; all that is to come affecting my 
country he has shown me.” Turning to the ’tzii^ again, he 
said with emphasis, “ I could tell marvels, — let this content 
you : words cannot paint the danger impending over our 
country, over Anahuac, the beautiful and beloved ; her exist- 
ence, and the glory and power that make her so worthy love 
like ours, are linked to your action. Your fate, 0 ’tzin, and 
hers, and that of the many nations, are one and the same. 
Accept the words as a prophecy ; wear them in memory ; and 
when, as now, you are moved by a trifling fear or anger, 
they should and will keep you from shame and folly.” 

Both then became silent. The paba might have been 
observing the events of the future, as, one by one, they rose 
and passed before his abstracted vision. Certain it was, with 
the thoughts of the warrior there mixed an ambition no 
longer selfish, but all his country’s. 

Mualox finally concluded. “ The future belongs to 
the gods ; only the present is ours. Of that let us think. 
Admit your troubles worthy vengeance : dare you tell me 
what you thought of doing 1 My son, why are you here 1 ” 
“ Does my father seek to mortify me ? ” 

“ Would the ’tzin have me encourage folly, if not worse 1 
And that in the presence of my god and his 1 ” 


134 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ Speak plainly, Mualox.” 

“ So I will. Obey the king. Go not to the palace to-night. 
If the thought of giving the woman to another is so hard, 
could you endure the sight ? Think : if present, what could 
you do to prevent the betrothal 1 ” 

A savage anger flashed from the ’tzin’s face, and he 
answered, “ What could I ? Slay the Tezcucan on the step 
of the throne, though I died ! ” 

It would come to that. And Anahuac ! What then 
of her 1 ” said Mualox, in a voice of exceeding sorrow. 

The love the warrior bore his country at that moment 
surpassed all others, and his rage passed away. 

“ True, most true ! If it should be as you say, that my 
destiny — ” 

If ! 0 ’tzin, if you live ! If Anahuac lives ! If there 

are gods ! — ” 

“ Enough, Mualox ! I know what you would say. Con- 
tent you ; I give you all faith. The wrong that tortures 
me is not altogether that the woman is to be given to another ; 
her memory I could pluck from my heart as a feather from 
my helm. If that were all, I could curse the fate, and sub- 
mit ; but there is more : for the sake of a cowardly policy I 
have been put to shame ; treachery and treason have been 
crowned, loyalty and blood disgraced. Hear me, father! 
After the decree of interdiction was served upon me, I ven- 
tured to send a messenger to the king, and he was spurned 
from the palace. Next went the lord Cuitlahua, uncle of 
mine, and true lover of Anahuac ; he was forbidden the men- 
tion of my name. I am not withdrawn from the world ; my 
pride will not down at a word ; so wronged, I cannot reason ; 
therefore I am here.” 

“ And the coming is a breach of duty ; the risk is great. 
Return to Iztapalapan before the midnight is out. And I, — 
but you do not know, my son, what a fortune has befallen 


A KING’S BANQUET. 


135 


me.” The paba smiled faintly. “ I have been promoted to 
the palace ; I am a councillor at the royal table.” 

“ A councillor ! You, father 1 ” 

The good man’s face gvew serious again. “I accepted 
the appointment, thinking good might result. But, alas 1 
the hope was vain. Montezuma, once so wise, is past coun- 
sel. He will take no guidance. And what a vanity !• O 
’tzin, the asking me to the palace was itself a crime, since it 
was to make me a weapon in his hand with which to resist 
the holy Quetzal.’ As though I could not see the design ! ” 

He laughed scornfully, and then said, “ But be not de- 
tained, my son. What I can, I will do for you ; at the 
council-table, and elsewhere, as opportunity may offer, I will 
exert my influence for your restoration to the city and palace. 
Go now. Farewell ; peace be with you. To-morrow I will 
send you tidings.” 

Thereupon he went out of the tower, and down into the 
temple. « 


CHAPTER IX. 

A king’s banquet. 

A t last the evening of the royal banquet arrived, — theme 
of incessant talk and object of preparation for two days 
and a night, out of the capital no less than in it ; for all the 
nobler classes within a convenient radius of the lake had 
been bidden, and, with them, people of distinction, such as 
successful artists, artisans, and merchants. 

It is not to be supposed that a king of Montezuma’s sub- 
tlety in matters governmental could overlook the importance 
of the social element, or neglect it. Education imports a 
society; more yet, academies, such as were in Tenoch- 


136 


THE FAIR GOD. 


titlan for the culture of women, always import a refined and 
cultivated society. And such there was in the beautiful 
valley. 

My picture of the entertainment will be feeble, I know, 
and I give it rather as a suggestion of the reality, which was 
gorgeous enough to be interesting to any nursling even of 
the court of His Most Catholic Majesty ; for, though heathen 
in religion, Montezuma was not altogether barbarian in taste ; 
and, sooth to say, no monarch in Christendom better under- 
stood the influence of kingliness splendidly maintained. 
About it, moreover, was all that makes chivalry adorable, — 
the dance, the feast, the wassail ; brave men, fair women, 
and the majesty of royalty in state amidst its most absolute 
proofs of power. 

On such occasions it was the custom of the great king to 
throw open the palace, with all its accompaniments, for 
the dehght of his guests, admitting them freely to aviary, 
menagerie, and garden, the latter itself spacious enough for 
the recreation of thirty thousand persons. 

The house, it must be remembered, formed a vast square, 
with patios or court-yards in the interior, around which the 
rooms were ranged. The part devoted to domestic uses was 
magnificently furnished. Another very considerable portion 
was necessary to the state and high duties of the monarch ; 
such were offices for his functionaries, quarters for his guards, 
and chambers for the safe deposit of the archives of the Em- 
pire, consisting of maps, laws, decrees and proclamations, 
accounts and reports financial and military, and the accumu- 
lated trophies of campaigns and conquests innumerable. 
When we consider the regard in which the king was held by 
his people, amounting almost to worship, and their curiosity 
to see all that pertained to his establishment, an idea may be 
formed of what the palace and its appurtenances were as 
accessaries to one of his entertainments. 


A KING’S BANQUET. 


137 


Passing from the endless succession of rooms, the visitor 
might go into the garden, where the walks were freshly 
strewn with shells, the shrubbery studded with colored 
lamps, the fountains all at play, and the air loaded with 
the perfume of flowers, which were an Aztec passion, and 
seemed everywhere a part of everything. 

And all this convenience and splendor was not wasted 
upon an inappreciative horde, — ferocious Caribs or simple 
children of Hispaniola. At such times the order requiring 
the wearing of nequen was suspended ; so that in the matter 
of costume there were no limits upon the guest, except such 
as were prescribed by his taste or condition. In the ani- 
mated current that swept from room to room and from 
house to garden might be seen citizens in plain attire, and 
warriors arrayed in regalia which permitted aU dazzling 
colors, and pabas hooded, surpliced, and gowned, brooding 
darkly even there, and stoled minstrels, with their harps, and 
pages, gay as butterflies, while over aU was the beauty of the 
presence of lovely women. 

Yet, withal, the presence of Montezuma was more attrac- 
tive than the calm night in the garden ; neither stars, nor 
perfumed summer airs, nor singing fountains, nor walks 
strewn with shells, nor chant of minstrels could keep the 
guests from the great hall where he sat in state ; so that it was 
alike the centre of all coming and all going. There the aged 
and sedate whiled away the hours in conversation ; the young 
danced, laughed, and were happy ; and in the common joy- 
ousness none exceeded the beauties of the harem, transiently 
released from the jealous thraldom that made the palace their 
prison. 

From the house-tops, or from the dykes, or out on the 
water, the common people of the capital, in vast multitudes, 
witnessed the coming of the guests across the lake. The 
rivalry of the great lords and families was at aU times ex- 


138 


THE FAIR GOD. 


travagant in the matter of pomp and show ; a king’s banquet, 
however, seemed its special opportunity, and the lake its 
particular field of display. The king Cacama, for example, 
left his city in a canoe of exquisite workmanship, pranked 
with pennons, ribbons, and garlands ; behind liim, or at his 
right and left, constantly ploying and deploying, attended a 
flotilla of hundreds of canoes only a little less rich in deco- 
ration than his own, and timed in every movement, even that 
of the paddles, by the music of conch-shells and tambours ; 
yet princely as the turn-out was, it did not exceed that of 
the lord Cuitlahua, governor of Iztapalapan. And if others 
were inferior to them in extravagance, nevertheless they 
helped clothe the beloved sea with a beauty and interest 
scarcely to be imagined by people who never witnessed or 
read of the grand Venetian pageants. 

Arrived at the capital, the younger warriors proceeded to 
the palace afoot ; while the matrons and maids, and the older 
and more dignified lords, were borne thither in palanquins. 
By evening the whole were assembled. 

About the second quarter of the night two men came up 
the great street to the palace, and made their way through 
the palanquins stationed there in waiting. They were 
guests ; so their garbs bespoke them. One wore the gown 
and carried the harp of a minstrel ; very white locks es^ 
caped from his hood, and a staff was required to assist his 
enfeebled steps. The other was younger, and with consistent 
vanity sported a military costume. To say the truth, his ex- 
tremely warlike demeanor lost nothing by the flash of a daunt- 
less eye and a step that made the pave ring again. 

An official received them at the door, and, by request, con- 
ducted them to the garden. 

“ This is indeed royal ! ” the warrior said to the minstrel. 
“ It bewilders me. Be yours the lead.” 

“ I know the walks as a deer his paths, or a bird the 


A KING’S BANQUET. 


139 


brake that shelters its mate. Come,” and the voice was 
strangely firm for one so aged, — “ come, let ns see the 
company.” 

Now and then they passed ladies, escorted by gallants, and 
frequently there were pauses to send second looks after the 
handsome soldier, and words of pity for his feeble companion. 
By and by, coming to an intersection of the walk they were 
pursuing, they were hailed, — “ Stay, minstrel, and give us a 
song.” 

By the door of a summer-house they saw, upon stopping, 
a girl whose beauty was worthy the tribute she sought. 
The elder sat down upon a bench and replied, — 

A song is gentle medicine for sorrows. Have you such 1 
You are very young.” 

Her look of sympathy gave place to one of surprise. 

I would I were assured that minstrelsy is your proper 
calling.” 

“You doubt it ! Here is my harp : a soldier is known 
by his shield.” 

“ But I have heard your voice before,” she persisted. 

“ The children of Tenochtitlan, and many who are old 
now, have heard me sing.” 

“ But I am a Chalcan.” 

“ I have sung in Chaleo.” 

“ May I ask your name ] ” 

“ There are many streets in the city, and on each they call 
me differently.” 

The girl was still perplexed. 

“ Minstrels have patrons,” she said, directly, “who — ” 

“Nay, child, this soldier here is all the friend I 
have.” 

Some one then threw aside the vine that draped the door. 
While the minstrel looked to see who the intruder was, his 
inquisitor gazed at the soldier, who, on his part, saw neither 


140 


THE FAIR GOD. 


of them ; he was making an obeisance so very low that his 
face and hand both touched the ground. 

Does the minstrel intend to sing, Yeteve ? ” asked Nenet- 
zin, stepping into the light that flooded the walk. 

The old man bent forward on his seat. 

Heaven’s best blessing on the child of the king ! It 
should be a nobler hand than mine that strikes a string to 
one so beautiful.” 

The comely princess replied, her face beaming with pleas- 
ure, “Verily, minstrel, much familiarity with song has given 
you courtly speech.” 

“ I have courtly friends, and only borrow their words. 
This place is fair, but to my duU fancy it seems that a maiden 
would prefer the great hall, unless she has a grief to indulge.” 

“ 0, I have a great grief,” she returned ; “ though I do 
borrow it as you your words.” 

“ Then you love some one who is unhappy. I understand. 
Is this child in your service ] ” he asked, looking at Yeteve. 

“ Call it mine. She loves me well enough to serve me.” 

The minstrel struck the strings of his harp softly, as if 
commencing a mournful story. 

“ I have a friend,” he said, “ a prince and warrior, whose 
presence here is banned. He sits in his palace to-night, and 
is visited by thoughts such as make men old in their youth. 
He has seen much of life, and won fame, but is fast finding 
that glory does not sweeten misfortune, and that of all 
things, ingratitude is the most bitter. His heart is set upon 
a noble woman ; and now, when his love is strongest, he is 
separated from her, and may not say farewell. 0, it is not 
in the ear of a true woman that lover so unhappy could 
breathe his story in vain. What would the princess Henet- 
zin do, if she knew a service of hers might soothe his great 
grief 1” 

Henetzin’s eyes were dewy with tears. 


THE ’TZIN’S love. 


141 


Good minstrel, I know the story ; it is the ’tzin’s. 
Are you a friend of his 1 ” 

“ His true friend. I bring his farewell to Tula.” 

“ I will serve him.” And, stepping to the old man, she 
laid her hand on his. ‘^Tell me what" to do, and what you 
would have.” 

“ Only a moment’s speech with her.” 

‘‘With Tula?” 

“ A moment to say the farewell he cannot. Go to the 
palace, and tell her what I seek. I will follow directly. 
Tell her she may know me in the throng by these locks, 
whose whiteness will prove my sincerity and devotion. 
And further, I will twine my harp with a branch of this 
vine ; its leaves will mark me, and at the same time tell her 
that his love is green as in the day a king’s smile sunned it 
into ripeness. Be quick. The moment comes when she 
cannot in honor listen to the message I am to speak.” 

He bent over his harp again, and Henetzin and Yeteve 
hurried away. 


CHAPTEE X. 

THE ’tZIN’S love. 

T he minstrel stayed a while to dress his harp with the 
vine. 

“ A woman would have done it better ; they have a spe- 
cial cunning for such things ; yet it will serve the purpose, 
Xow let us on ! ” he said, when the task was finished. 

To the palace they then turned their steps. As they ap- 
proached it, the walk became more crowded with guests. 
Several times the minstrel was petitioned to stay and sing^ 
but he excused himself. He proceeded, looking steadily at 


142 


THE FAIR GOD. 


the ground, as is the custom of the very aged. Amongst 
others, they met Maxtla, gay in his trappings as a parrot from 
the Great Eiver. 

“ Good minstrel,” he said, ‘‘ in your wanderings through 
the garden, have you seen Iztlir, the Tezcucan h ” 

“ I have not seen the Tezcucan. I should look for him 
in the great hall, where his bride is, rather than in the gar- 
den, dreaming of his bridal.” 

“Well said, uncle ! I infer your harp is not carried for 
show ; you can sing ! I will try you after a while.” 

When he was gone, the minstrel spoke bitterly, — 

“ Beware of the thing known in the great house yondei 
as policy. A week ago the lord Maxtla would have scorned 
to be seen hunting the Tezcucan, whom he hates.” 

They came to a portal above which, in a niche of the 
wall, sat the teotl ^ of the house, grimly claiming attention 
and worship. Under the portal, past the guard on duty 
there, through many apartments full of objects of wonder 
to the stranger, they proceeded, and, at last, with a current 
of guests slowly moving in the same direction, reached the 
hall dominated by the king, where the minstrel thought to 
find the princess Tula. 

“ 0 my friend, I pray you, let me stay here a moment,” 
said the warrior, abashed by dread of the sudden intro- 
duction to the royal presence. The singer heard not, but 
went on. 

Standing by the door, the young stranger looked down a 
hall of great depth eastwardly, broken by two rows of pil- 
lars supporting vast oaken girders, upon which rested raft- 
ers of red cedar. The walls were divided into panels, with 
borders broad and intricately arabesqued. A massive brack- 
et in the centre of each panel held the image of a deity, 
the duplicate of the idol in the proper sanctuary ; and from 
* A household god. 


THE ’TZIN’S LOVE. 


143 


the feet of the image radiated long arms of wood, well 
carved, crooked upward at the elbows, and ending mth 
shapely hands, clasping lanterns of aguave which emitted 
lights of every tint. In the central space, between the rows 
of pillars, immense chandeliers dropped from the rafters, so 
covered with lamps that they looked like pyramids aglow. 
And arms, and images, and chandeliers, and even the huge 
pillars, were wreathed in garlands of cedar boughs and 
flowers, from which the air drew a redolence as of morning 
in a garden. 

Through all these splendors, the gaze of the visitor sped 
to the further end of the hall, and there stayed as charmed. 
He saw a stage, bright with crimson carpeting, rising three 
steps above the floor, and extending from wall to wall ; and 
on that, covered with green plumaje, a dais, on which, in a 
chair or throne glittering with burnished gold, the king sat. 
Above him spread a canopy fashioned like a broad sunshade, 
the staff resting on the floor behind the throne, sustained by 
two full-armed warriors, who, while motionless as statues, 
were yet vigilant as sentinels. Around the dais, their cos- 
tumes and personal decorations sharing the monarch’s splen- 
dor, were collected his queens, and their children, and all 
who might claim connection with the royal family. The 
light shone about them as the noonday, so full that all that 
portion of the hall seemed bursting with sunshine. Never 
satin richer than the emerald cloth of the canopy, inwoven, 
as it was, with feathers of humming-birds ! Never sheen 
of stars, to the eyes of the wondering stranger, sharper than 
the glinting of the jewels with which it was fringed ! 

And the king appeared in happier mood than common, 
though the deep, serious look which always accompanies a 
great care came often to his face. He had intervals of 
silence also ; yet his shrewdest guests were not permitted to 
see that he did not enjoy their enjoyment. 


144 


THE FAIR GOD. 


His queens were seated at his left, Tecalco deeply troubled, 
sometimes tearful, and Acatlan cold and distant; for, in 
thought of her own child, the beautiful Henetzin, she trem- 
bled before the remorseless policy. 

And Tula, next to the king the recipient of attention, sat 
in front of her mother, never more queenly, never so unhappy. 
Compliments came to her, and congratulations, given in 
courtly style ; minstrels extolled her grace and beauty, and 
the prowess and martial qualities of the high-hom Tezcucan ; 
and priest and warrior laid their homage at her feet. Yet her 
demeanor was not that of the glad young bride ; she never 
smiled, and her eyes, commonly so lustrous, were dim and 
hopeless ; her thoughts were with her heart, across the lake 
with the banished ’tzin. 

As may be conjectured, it was no easy game to steal her 
from place so conspicuous ; nevertheless, Henetzin awaited the 
opportunity. 

It happened that Maxtla was quite as anxious to get the 
monarch’s ear for the benefit of his friend, the Chalcan, — 
in fact, for the introduction of the latter’s newly invented 
drink. Experience taught the chief when the felicitous 
moment arrived. He had then but to say the word : a page 
was sent, the liquor brought. Montezuma sipped, smiled, 
quaffed deeper, and was delighted. 

“ There is nothing like it ! ” he said. “ Bring goblets for 
my friends, and fill up again ! ” 

All the lordly personages about him had then to follow 
his example, — to drink and approve. At the end, Xoli was 
summoned. 

Henetzin saw the chance, and said, “ O Tula, such a song 
as we have heard ! It was sweeter than that of the bird 
that wakes us in the morning, sweeter than aU the flutes 
in the hall.” 

“ And the singer, — who was he 1 ” 


THE 'TZIN'S love. 


145 


Neither Nenetzin nor Yeteve could tell his name. 

“ He charmed us so,” said the former, “ that we thought 
only of taking you to hear him. Come, go with us. There 
never was such music or musician.” 

And the three came down from the platform unobserved 
hy the king. When the minstrel’s message was delivered, 
then was shown how well the Tezcucan had spoken when he 
said of the royal children, They are all beautiful, hut only 
one is fitted to be a warrior’s wife.” 

“ Let us see the man,” said Tula. “ How may we know 
him, Nenetzin? ” 

And they went about eagerly looking for the singer with 
the gray locks and the vine-wreathed harp. They found him 
at last about midway the hall, leaning on his staff, a solitary 
amidst the throng. No one thought of asking him for a 
song ; he was too old, too like one come from a tomb with 
unfashionable stories. 

“ Father,” said Tula, “ we claim your service. You look 
weary, yet you must know the ancient chants, which, though 
I would not like to say it everywhere, please me best. Will 
you sing ? ” 

He raised his head, and looked at her : she started. 
Something she saw in his eyes that had escaped her friends. 

** A song from me ! ” he replied, as if astonished. “ No, 
it cannot be. I have known some gentle hearts, and studied 
them to remember ; hut long since they went to dust. You 
do not know me. Imagining you discerned of what I was 
thinking, you were moved; you only pitied me, here so 
desolate.” 

As he talked, she recovered her composure. 

“Will you sing for me, father 1 ” she again asked. 

“ O willingly ! My memory is not so good as it used to 
be ; yet one song, at least, I will give you from the number 
less ills that crowd it.” 

7 


146 


THE FAIR GOD. 


He looked slowly and tremulously around at the guests 
who had followed her, or stopped, as they were passing, to 
hear the conversation. 

“ As you say,” he then continued, “ I am old and feeble, 
and it is wearisome to stand here ; besides, my theme will 
be sad, and such as should be heard in quiet. Time was 
when my harp had honor, — to me it seems but yesterday ; 
but now — enough ! Here it were not well that my voice 
should be heard.” 

She caught his meaning, and her whole face kindled ; but 
Henetzin spoke first. 

“ 0 yes ; let us to the garden ! ” 

The minstrel bowed reverently. As they started, a wo- 
man, who had been hstening, said, “ Surely, the noble Tula 
is not going ! The man is a dotard ; he cannot sing ; he is 
palsied.” 

But they proceeded, and through the crowd and out of the 
hall guided the trembling minstrel. Coming to a passage 
that seemed to be deserted, they turned into it, and Henetzin, 
at Tula’s request, went back to the king. Then a change 
came over the good man ; his stooping left him, his step be- 
came firm, and, placing himself in front, he said, in a deep, 
strong voice, — 

It is mine to lead now. I remember these halls. Once 
again, 0 Tula, let me lead you here, as I have a thousand 
times in childhood.” 

And to a chamber overlooking the garden, by the hand he 
led her, followed by Yeteve, sobbing like a child. A dim 
light from the lamps without disclosed the walls hung with 
trophies captured in wars with the surrounding tribes and 
nations. Where the rays were strongest, he stopped, and re- 
moved the hood, and said, earnestly, — 

“ Against the king’s command, and loving you better than 
life, 0 Tula, Guatamozin has come to say fareweU.’* 


THE ’TZIN’S LOVE. 


147 


There was a great silence ; each heard the beating of the 
other’s heart. 

“ You have passed from me,” he continued, “ and I send 
my grief after you. I look into your face, and see fade our 
youth, our hopes, and our love, and all the past that bore it 
relation. The days of pleasantness are ended; the spring 
that fed the running brook is dry. 0 Tula, dear one, the 
bird that made us such sweet music is songless forever ! ” 
Her anguish was too deep for the comfort of words or 
tears. Closer he clasped her hand. 

“ 0, that power should he so faithless ! Here are banners 
that I have taken. Yonder is a shield of a king of Michuaca 
whom I slew. I well remember the day. Montezuma led 
the army ; the fight was hard, the peril great ; and after I 
struck the blow, he said I had saved his life, and vowed me 
boundless love and a splendid reward. What a passion the 
field of fighting men was ! And yet there was another al- 
ways greater. I had dwelt in the palace, and learned that 
in the smile of the noble Tula there was to my hfe what the 
sunshine is to the flower.” 

He faltered, then continued brokenly, — 

“ He had honors, palaces, provinces, and crowns to bestow ; 
but witness, 0 gods, whose sacred duty it is to punish in- 
gratitude, — witness that I cared more to call Tula wife than 
for all the multitude of his princeliest gifts ! ” 

And now fast ran the tears of the princess, through sorrow 
rising to full womanhood, while the murky chamber echoed 
with the sobs of Yeteve. If the ghost of the barbarian king 
yet cared for the shield he died defending, if it were there 
present, seeing and hearing, its revenge was perfect. 

“ If Guatamozin — so dear to me now, so dear always — 
will overlook the womanly selfishness that could find a pleas- 
ure in his grief, I will prove that he has not loved unworthily. 
You have asked nothing of me, nor urged any counsel, and I 


148 


THE FAIR GOD. 


thank yon for the moderation. I thank you, also, that you 
have spoken as if this sorrow were not yours more than mine. 
Most of all, 0 ’tzin, I thank you for not accusing me. Need 
I say how I hate the Tezcucan 1 or that I am given away 
against my will 1 I am to go as a price, as so much cocoa, 
in purchase of the fealty of a wretch who would league with 
Mictlan to humble my father. I am a weak woman, with- 
out tribes or banner, and therefore the wrong is put upon 
me. But have I no power?” And, trembling with the 
strong purpose, she laid her hand upon his breast. Wife 
will I never he except of Guatamozin. I am the daughter 
of a king. My father, at least, should know me. He may 
sell me, but, thank the holy gods, I am the keeper of my own 
life. And what would life be with the base Tezcucan for my 
master 1 Eoyal power in a palace of pearl and gold would 
not make it worth the keeping. 0 Tzin, you never threw a 
worthless leaf upon the lake more carelessly than I would 
then fling this poor body there ! ” 

Closer to his heart he pressed the hand on his breast. 

“ To you, to you, 0 Tula, be the one blessing greater than 
all others which the gods keep back in the Sun ! So only 
can you be rewarded. I take your words as an oath. Keep 
them, only keep them, and I will win for you all /that can be 
won by man. What a time is coming — ” 

Just then a joyous cry and a burst of laughter from the 
garden interrupted his passionate speech, and recalled him to 
himself and the present, — to the present, which was not to 
be satisfied with lovers’ rhapsodies. And so he said, when 
next he spoke, — 

“You have anwered my most jealous wish. Go back 
now ; make no objection to the Tezcucan : the betrothal 
is not the bridal. The king and Iztlil’ cannot abide together 
in peace. I know them.” 

And sinking his voice, he added, “ Your hand is on my 


THE ’TZIN’S LOVE. 


149 


heart, and by its heating you cannot fail to know how full it 
is of love. Take my blessing to strengthen you. Farewell. 
I will return to my gardens and dreams.” 

“ To dreams ! And with such a storm coming upon Ana- 
huac ! ” said Tula. “ No, no ; to dream is mine.” 

Up, clear to his vision, rose the destiny prophesied for 
him by Mualox. As he pondered it, she said, tearfully, — 

“ I love my father, and he is blind or mad. Now is his 
peril greatest, now most he needs friendship and help. 0 
’tzin, leave him not, — I conjure you by his past kindness ! 
Eemember I am his child.” 

Thereupon he dropped her hand, and walked the floor, 
while the banners and the shields upon the walls, and the 
mute glory they perpetuated, whispered of the wrong and 
shame he was enduring. When he answered, she knew 
how great the struggle had been, and that the end was 
scarcely a victory. 

“You have asked that of me, my beloved, which is a 
sore trial,” he said. “ I will not deny that the great love I 
bore your father is disturbed by bitterness. Think how ex- 
cessive my injury is, — I who revered as a son, and have al- 
ready put myself in death’s way for him. In the halls, and 
out in the gardens, my name has been a jest to-night. And 
how the Tezcucan has exulted 1 It is hard for the sufferer to 
love his ’wrong-doer, — 0 so hard ! But this I will, and as an 
oath take the promise : as long as the king acts for Anahuac, 
not imperilling her safety or glory, so long Avill I uphold him ; 
this, 0 Tula, from love of country, and nothing more ! ” 

And as the future was veiled against the woman and du- 
tiful child, she replied simply, “ I accept the oath. Now 
lead me hence.” 

He took her hand again, and said, “ In peril of life I 
came to say farewell forever ; but I will leave a kiss upon 
your forehead, and plant its memory in your heart, and 
some day come again to claim you mine.” 


150 


THE FAIR GOD. 


And he put his arm around her, and left the kiss on her 
forehead, and, as the ancient he entered, conducted the un- 
happy princess from the chamber of banners hack to the 
hall of betrothal. 


CHAPTEK XI. 

THE CHANT. 

“ *T’F you have there anything for laughter, Maxtla, I hid 
you welcome,” said the king, his guests around him. 

And the young chief knelt on the step before the throne, 
and answered with mock solemnity, “ Your servant, 0 king, 
knows your great love of minstrelsy, and how it delights 
you to make rich the keeper of a harp who sings a good 
song well. I have taken one who hears him like a noble 
singer, and has age to warrant his experience.” 

“ Call you that the man ^ ” asked the king, pointing to 
Guatamozin. 

“ He is the man.” 

The monarch laughed, and all the guests listening laughed. 

How, minstrels were common on all festive occasions ; in- 
deed, an Aztec banquet was no more perfect without them 
than without guests : but it was seldom the royal halls were 
graced by one so very aged ; so that the bent form and gmy 
locks, that at other places and times would have insured 
safety and respect, now excited derision. The men thought 
his presence there presumptuous, the women laughed at him 
as a dotard. In brief, the ’tzin’s peril was very great. 

He seemed, however, the picture of aged innocence, and 
stood before the throne, his head bowed, his face shaded by 
the hood, leaning humbly on his staff, and clasping the harp 
close to his breast, the vines yet about it. So weU did he 


THE CHANT. 


151 


observe his disguise, that none there, save Tula and Yeteve, 
might dream that the hood and dark gown concealed the 
boldest warrior in Tenochtitlan. The face of the priestess 
was turned away ; but the princess sat a calm witness of the 
scene ; either she had too much pride to betray her solich 
tude, or a confidence in his address so absolute that she felt 
none. 

“ He is none of ours,” said the king, when he had sev- 
eral times scanned the minstrel. “ If the palace ever knew 
him, it was in the days of Axaya’, from whose tomb he 
seems to have come.” 

“As I came in from the garden, I met him going out,” 
said Maxtla, in explanation. “ 1 could not bear that my 
master should lose such a promise of song. Besides, I have 
heard the veterans in service often say that the ancient 
chants were the best, and I thought it a good time to test the 
boast.” 

The gray courtiers frowned, and the king laughed again. 

“My minstrel here represented that old time so well,” 
continued Maxtla, “that at first I was full of reverence; 
therefore I besought him to come, and before you, 0 king, 
sing the chants that used to charm your mighty father. T 
thought it no dishonor for him to compete with the singers 
now in favor, they giving us something of the present time. 
He declined in courtliest style ; saying that, though his voice 
was good, he was too old, and might shame the ancient min- 
strelsy ; and that, from what he had heard, my master de- 
lighted only in things of modern invention. A javelin in 
the hand of a sentinel ended the argument, and he finally 
consented. Wherefore, 0 king, I claim him captive, to 
whom, if it be your royal pleasure, I offer liberty, if he will 
sing in competition before this noble company.” 

What sport could be more royal than such poetic contest, 
— the old reign against the new? Montezuma welcomed 
the idea. 


162 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The condition is reasonable,” he said. “ Is there a min- 
strel in the valley to call it otherwise 1 ” 

In a tone scarcely audible, though all were silent that they 
might hear, the ’tzin answered, — 

Obedience was the first lesson of every minstrel of the 
old time ; but as the master we served loved us as his chil- 
dren, we never had occasion to sing for the purchase of our 
liberty. And more, — the capture of a harmless singer, though 
he were not aged as your poor slave, 0 king, was not 
deemed so brave a deed as to be rewarded by our master’s 
smile.” 

The speech, though feebly spoken, struck both the king 
and his chief. 

‘‘Well done, uncle ! ” said the former, laughing. “And 
since you have tongue so sharp, we remove the condition — ” 

“ Thanks, many thanks, most mighty king ! May the 
gods mete you nothing but good ! I will depart.” And the 
’tzin stooped till his harp struck the floor. 

The monarch waved his hand. “ Stay. I merely spoke 
of the condition that made your liberty depend upon your 
song. Go, some of you, and call my singers.” A courtier 
hurried away, then the king added, “It shall be weU for 
him who best strikes the strings. I promise a prize that 
shall raise him above trouble, and make his life what a poet’s 
ought to be.” 

Guatamozin advanced, and knelt on the step from which 
Maxtla had risen, and said, his voice sounding tremulous 
with age and infirmity, — 

“ If the great king will deign to heed his servant again, — 
I am old and weak. There was a time when I would have 
rejoiced to hear a prize so princely offered in such a trial. But 
that was many, many summers ago. And this afternoon, in 
my hut by the lake-shore, when I took my harp, all covered 
with dust, from the shelf where it had so long lain untouched 


THE CHANT. 


153 


and neglected, and wreathed it with this fresh vine, thinking 
a gay dress might give it the appearance of use, and myself 
a deceitful likeness to the minstrel I once was, alas ! I did 
not think of my trembling hand and my shattered memory, 
or of trial like this. I only knew that a singer, however 
humble, was privileged at your banquet, and that the privi- 
lege was a custom of the monarchs now in their halls in the 
Sun, — true, kingly men, who, at time like this, would have 
put gold in my hand, and hade me arise, and go in peace. 
Is Montezuma more careless of his glory ? WiU he compel 
my song, and dishonor my gray hair, that I may go abroad 
in Tenochtitlan and tell the story 1 In pity, 0 king, suffer 
me to depart.” 

The courtiers murmured, and even Maxtla relented, but 
the king said, “Good uncle, you excite my curiosity the 
more. If your common speech have in it such a vein of 
poetry, what must the poetry be 1 And then, does not your 
obstinacy outmeasure my cruelty! Get ready, I hold the 
fortune. Win it, and I am no king if it be not yours.” 

The interest of the bystandere now exceeded their pity. 
It was novel to find one refusing reward so rich, when the 
followers of his art were accustomed to gratify an audience, 
even one listener, upon request. 

And, seeing that escape from the trial was impossible, the 
’tzin arose, resolved to act boldly. Minstrelsy, as practised 
by the Aztecs, it must be remembered, was not singing so 
much as a form of chanting, accompanied by rhythmical 
touches of the lyre or harp, — of all kinds of choral music the 
most primitive. This he had practised, but in the solitude 
of his study. The people present knew the ’tzin Guatamo, 
supposed to be in his palace across the lake, as soldier, 
scholar, and prince, but not as poet or singer of heroic tales. 
So that confident minstrelsy was now but another, if not a 
surer, disguise. And the eyes of the princess Tula shining 
7 « 


V54 


THE FAIR GOD. 


upon him calmly and steadily, he said, his voice this tune 
trembling with suppressed wrath, — 

Be it so, 0 king ! Let the singers come, — let them 
come. Your slave will fancy himself before the great Axaya’, 
or your father, not less royal. He will forget his age, and 
put his trust in the god whose story he will sing.” 

Then other amusements were abandoned, and, intelli- 
gence of the trial flying far and fast, lords and ladies, soldiers 
and priests crowded about the throne and fiUed the hall. 
That any power of song could belong to one so old and 
unknown was incredible. 

He is a provincial, — the musician of one of the hamlets,” 
said a courtier, derisively. 

“ Yes,” sneered another, he will tell how the flood came, 
and drowned the harvest in his neighborhood.” 

“ Or,” ventured a third, “ how a ravenous vulture once 
descended from the hills, and carried off his pet rabbit.” 

By and by the royal minstrels came, — sleek, comely men, 
wearing long stoles fringed with gold, and having harps in- 
laid with pearl, and strung with silver wires. With scarce 
a glance at their humble competitor, they ranged themselves 
before the monarch. 

The trial began. One after another, the favorites were 
called upon. The first sang of love, the next of his mis- 
tress, the third of Lake Tezcuco, the fourth of Montezuma, 
his power, wisdom, and glory. Before aU were through, 
the patience of the king and crowd was exhausted. The 
pabas wanted something touching religion, the soldiers some- 
thing heroic and resounding with war ; and all waited for 
the stranger, as men listening to a story wait for the laughter 
it may chance to excite. How were they surprised ! Be- 
fore the womanly tones of the last singer ceased, the old 
man dropped his staff, and, lifting his harp against his breast, 
struck its chords, and in a voice clear and vibratory as the 


THE CHANT. 


156 


blast of a shell, a voice that filled the whole hall, and 
startled maid and king alike, began his chant. 

QUETZAL’. 

Beloved of the Sun ! Mother of the 
Brave ! Azatlan, the North born ! Heard be thou 
In my far laxmched voice ! I sing to thy 
Listening children of thee and Heaven. 

Vale in the Sun, where dwell the Gods ! Sum of 

The beautiful art thou ! Thy forests are 

Flowering trees ; of crystal and gold thy 

Mountains ; and liquid light are thy rivers 

Flowing, all murmurous with songs, over 

Beds of stars. 0 Vale of Gods, the summery 

Sheen that flecks Earth’s seas, and kisses its mountains, 

And fairly floods its plains, we know is of thee, — 

A sign sent us from afar, that we may 
Feebly learn how beautiful is Heaven ! 

The singer rested a moment ; then, looking in the eyes of 
the king, with a rising voice, he continued, — 

Richest hall in all the Vale is Quetzal’s — 

At that name Montezuma started. The minstrel noted 
Fell the sign. 

O, none so fair as Quetzal’s ! The winds that 
Play among its silver columns are Love’s 
Light laughter, while of Love is all the air 
About. From its orient porch the young 
Mornings glean the glory with which they rise 
On earth. 

First God and fairest was Quetzal’. 

As him 0 none so full of holiness, 

And by none were men so lov’d ! Sat he always 
In his hall, in deity rob’d, watching 
Humanity, its genius, and its struggles 
Upward. But most he watch’d its wars, — no hero 
Fell but he call’d the wand’ring soul in love 
To rest with him forever. 

Sat he once 

Thus watching, and where least expected, is 


156 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The far North, by stormy Winter rul’d, up 

From the snows he saw a Nation rise. Sliook • - 

Their bolts, glistened their shields, flashed the 

Light of their fierce eyes. A king, in wolf-skin 

Girt, pointed Southward, and up the hills, through 

The air, to the Sun, flew the name — Azatlan. 

Then march’d they; by day and night they march’d, — march’d 
Ever South, across the desert, up the 
Mountains, down the mountains ; leaping rivers. 

Smiting foes, taking cities, — thus they march’d ; 

Thus, a cloud of eagles, roll’d they from the 
North ; thus on the South they fell, as autumn 
Frosts upon the fruits of summer fall. 

And now the priests were glad, — the singer sung of 
Heaven ; and the warriors were aroused, — his voice was 
like a battle-cry, and the theme was the proud tradition of 
the conquering march of their fathers from the distant 
North. Sitting with clasped hands and drooped head, the 
king followed the chant, like one listening to an oracle. 
Yet stronger grew the minstrel’s voice, — 


Pass ’d 

Many years of toil, and still the Nation march’d ; 

Still Southward strode the king ; still Sunward rose 
The cry of Azatlan / Azatlan / And 
Warmer, truer, brighter grew the human 
Love of Quetzal’. He saw them reach a lake ; 

As dew its waves were clear ; like lover’s breath 
The wind flew o’er it. ’T was in the clime of 
Starry nights, — the clime of orange-groves and 
Plumy palms. 

Then Quetzal’ from his watching 
Rose. Aside he flung his sunly symbols. 

Like a falling star, from the Vale of Gods 
He dropp’d , like a falling star shot through the 
Shoreless space ; like a golden morning reach’d 
The earth, — reach’d the lake. Then stay’d the Nation’s 
March. Still Smiward rose the cry, but Southward 
Strode the king no more. 

In his roomy heart. In 
The chambers of its love. Quetzal’ took the 


THE CHANT. 


157 


Nation. He swore its kings should be his sons, — 

They should conquer, by the Sun, he swore ! In 
The laughing Lake he bade them build ; and up 
Sprang Tenochtitlan, of the human love 
Of Quetzal child ; up rose its fire-lit towers. 

Outspread its piles, outstretched its streets 
Of stone and wave. And as the city grew. 

Still stronger grew the love of Quetzal’. 

Thine 

Is the Empire. To the shields again, 0 
Azatlan ! ’T was thus he spoke ; and feather’d 
Crest and oaken spear, the same that from the 
North came conquering, through the valley, 

On a wave of war went swiftly floating. 

Down before the flaming shields fell all the 
Neighb’ring tribes ; open flew the cities’ gates ; 

Fighting kings gave up their crowns ; from the hills 
The Chichimecan fled ; on temple towers 
The Toltec fires to scattering ashes 
Died. Like a scourge upon the city, like 
A fire across the plain, like storms adown 
Tlie mountain, — such was Azatlan that day 
It went to battle ! Like a monarch ’mid 
His people, like a god amid the Heavens, 

O such was Azatlan, victor from the 
Battle, the Empire in its hand ! 

At this point the excitement of the audience rose into 
interruption : they clapped their hands and stamped ; some 
shouted. As the strong voice rolled the grand story on, 
even the king’s dread of the god disappeared ; and had the 
’tzin concluded then, the prize had certainly been his. But 
when the silence was restored, he resumed the attitude so 
proper to his disguise, and, sinking his voice and changing 
the measure of the chant, solemnly proceeded, — 

A.S the river runneth ever, like the river ran the love of 
Quetzal’. The clime grew softer, and the Vale fairer. To weave, and 
trade. 

And sow, and build, he taught, with coimtless other ways of peace. He 
broke 

The seals of knowledge, and unveiled the mystic paths of wisdom ; 


158 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Gathered gold from the earth, and jewels from the streams ; and happy in 

Peace, as terrible in war, became Azatlan. Only one more 

Blessing, — a religion sounding of a quiet heaven and a 

Godly love, — this only wanted Azatlan. And alas, for the 

Simly Quetzal’ ! He built a temple, with a single tower, a 

Temple over many chambers.” 

Slowly the ’tzin repeated the last sentence, and under his 
gaze the monarch’s face changed visibly. 

Worship he asked, and offerings, 

And sacrifices, not of captives, heart-broken and complaining. 

But of blooming flowers, and ripened fruits, emblems of love, and peace. 
And beauty. Alas, for the gentle Quetzal’ ! Cold grew the people 
Lov’d so well. A little while they worshipped ; then, as bees go no 
More to a withered flower, they forsook his shrine, and mock’d his 
Image. His love, longest lingering, went down at last, but slowly 
Went, as the brook, drop by drop, runs dry in the drought of a rainless 
Summer. Wrath ’rose instead. Down in a chamber below the temple, 

A chamber full of gold and unveiled splendor, beneath the Lake that 
Long had ceased its laughing, thither went the god, and on the walls. 

On the marble and the gold, he wrote — 

The improvisation, if such it was, now wrought its full 
effect upon Montezuma, who saw the recital coming nearer 
and nearer to the dread mysteries of the golden chamber in 
the old Ch. At the beginning of the last sentence, the 
blood left his face, and he leaned forward as if to check the 
speech, at the same time some master influence held him 
wordless. His look was that of one seeing a vision. The 
vagaries of a mind shaken by days and nights of trouble 
are wonderful ; sometimes they are fearful. How easy for 
his distempered fancy to change the minstrel, with his white 
locks and venerable countenance, into a servant of Quetzal’, 
sent by the god to confirm the interpretation and prophecies 
of his other servant Mualox. At the last word, he arose, 
and, with an imperial gesture, cried, — 

Peace — enough ! ” 

Then his utterance failed him, — another vision seemed 


THE CHANT. 


159 


to fix his gaze. The audience, thrilling with fear, turned to 
see what he saw, and heard a commotion, which, from the 
further end of the hall, drew slowly near the throne, and 
ceased not until Mualox, in his sacrificial robes, knelt upon 
the step in the minstrel’s place. Montezuma dropped into 
his throne, and, covering his eyes with his hands, said 
faintly, — 

“ Evil betides me, father, evil betides me i But I am a 
king. Speak what you can ! ” 

Mualox prostrated himself until his white hair covered 
his master’s feet. 

“Again, 0 king, your servant comes speaking for his 
god.” 

“For the god, Mualox 1 ” 

The hall became silent as a tomb. 

“ I come,” the holy man continued, “ to tell the king that 
Quetzal’ has landed, this time on the sea-shore in Cempoalla. 
At set of sun his power was collected on the beach. Summon 
all your wisdom, — the end is at hand.” 

All present and hearing listened awe-struck. Of the war- 
riors, not one, however battle-tried, but trembled with unde- 
fined terror. And who may accuse them 1 The weakness 
was from fear of a supposed god ; their heathen souls, after 
the manner of the Christian, asked. Who may war against 
Heaven 1 

“ Eise, Mualox ! You love me ; I have no better servant,” 
said the king, with dignity, but so sadly that even the proph- 
et’s heart was touched. “ It is not for me to say if your 
news be good or evil. All things, even my Empire, are in the 
care of the gods. To-morrow I will hold a council to deter- 
mine how this visit may be best met.” With a mighty ef- 
fort he freed his spirit of the influence of the untimely visi- 
tation, and said, with a show of unconcern, “Leave the 
morrow to whom it belongs, my children. Let us now to 


160 


THE FAIR GOD. 


the ceremony which was to crown the night. Come forward, 
son of ’Hualpilli ! Room for the lord Iztlil’, my friends ! ” 

Tula looked down, and the queen Tecalco bowed her face 
upon the shoulder of the queen Acatlan ; and immediately, 
all differences lost in loving loyalty, the caciques and chiefs 
gathered before him, — a nobility as true and chivalric as ever 
fought beneath an infidel banner. 

And they waited, hut the Tezcucan came not. 

“ Go, Maxtla. Seek the lord Iztlil’, and bring him to my 
presence.” 

Through the palace and through the gardens they sought 
the recreant lover. And the silence of the waiting in the 
great hall was painful. Guest looked in the face of guest, 
mute, yet asking much. The prince Cacama whispered to 
the prince Cuitlahua, “ It is a happy interference of the 
gods I ” 

Tecalco wept on, but not from sorrow, and the eyes of the 
devoted princess were lustrous for the first time ; hope had 
come hack to the darkened soul. 

And the monarch said little, and erelong retired. A great 
portion of the company, despite his injunction, speedily fol- 
lowed his example, leaving the younger guests, with what hu- 
mor they could command, to continue the revel till morning. 

Next day at noon couriers from CempoaUa confirmed the 
announcement of Mualox. Cortes had indeed landed ; and 
that Good Friday was the last of the perfect glory of Ana- 
huac. 

Poor king ! Not long now until I may sing for thee the 
lamentation of the Gothic Roderick, whose story is but little 
less melancholy than thine. 

He look’d for the brave captains that led the hosts of Spain, 

But all were fled, except the dead, — and who could count the slain ? 

Where’er his eye could wander all bloody was the plain ; 

And while thus he said the tears he shed ran down his cheeks like rain. 


THE CHANT. 


161 


Last night I was the king of Spain : to-day no king am I. 

- Last night fair castles held my train : to-night where shall I lie ? 
Last night a hundred pages did serve me on the knee, 

To-night not one I call my own, — not one pertains to me.* 

* The fifth and sixth verses of the famous Spanisn ballad, “ The Lamen- 
tation of Don Roderic.” The translation I have borrowed from Lockhart’i 
Spanish Ballads. — Tb. 


BOOK THREE. 


CHAPTER I. 


THE FIRST COMBAT. 


HE ’tzin’s companion the night of the banquet, as the 



_L reader has no doubt anticipated, was Hualpa, the Ti- 
huancan. To an adventure of his, more luckless than his 
friend’s, I now turn. 

It will be remembered that the ’tzin left him at the door 
of the great hall. In a strange scene, without a guide, it was 
natural for him to be Ul at ease ; light-hearted and fearless, 
however, he strolled leisurely about, at one place stopping to 
hear a minstrel, at another to observe a dance, and all the 
time half confused by the maze and splendor of aU he be- 
held. In such awe stood he of the monarch, that he gave the 
throne a wide margin, contented from a distance to view the 
accustomed interchanges of courtesy between the guests and 
their master. Finding, at last, that he could not break 
through the bashfulness acquired in his solitary life among 
the hills, and imitate the ease and nonchalance of those 
born, as it were, to the lordliness of the hour, he left the 
house, and once more sought the retiracy of the gardens. 
Out of doors, beneath the stars, with the fresh air in his 
nostrils, he felt at home again, the whilom hunter, ready for 
any emprise. 

As to the walk he should foUow he had no choice, for in 
every direction he heard laughter, music, and conversation ; 
everywhere were flowers and the glow of lamps. Merest 


THE FIRST COMBAT. 


163 


chance put him in a path that led to the neighborhood of 
the museum. 

Since the night shut in, — he it said in a whisper, — a 
memory of wonderful brightness had taken possession of his 
mind. Nenetzin’s face, as he saw it laughing in the door of 
the kiosk when Yeteve called the’tzin for a song, he thought 
outshone the lamplight, the flowers, and everything most 
beautiful about his path ; her eyes were as stars, rivalling the 
insensate ones in the mead above him. He remembered 
them, too, as all the brighter for the tears through which 
they had looked down, — alas ! not on him, but upon his rev- 
erend comrade. If Hualpa was not in love, he was, at least, 
borrowing wings for a flight of that kind. 

Indulging the delicious revery, he came upon some nobles, 
conversing, and quite blocking up the way, though going in 
his direction. He hesitated; but, considering that, as a 
guest, the freedom of the garden belonged equally to him, 
he proceeded, and became a listener. 

“ People call him a warrior. They know nothing of what 
makes a warrior ; they mistake good fortune, or what the 
traders in the tianguez call luck, for skill. Take his conduct 
at the combat of Quetzal’ as an example ; say he threw his 
arrows weU : yet it was a cowardly war. How much braver 
to grasp the maquahuitl, and rush to blows ! That requires 
manhood, strength, skill. To stand back, and kill with a 
chance arrow, — a woman could do as much.” 

The ’tzin was the subject of discussion, and the voice 
that of Iztlir, the Tezcucan. Hualpa moved closer to the 
party. 

I thought his course in that combat good,” said a strati', 
ger ; “ it gave him opportunities not otherwise to he had. 
That he did not join the assault cannot be urged against his 
courage. Had you, my lord Iztlil’, fallen like the Otompan, 
he would have been left alone to fight the challengers. A 


164 


THE FAIR GOD. 


fool would have seen the risk ; a coward would not have 
courted it." 

That argument,” replied Iztlil’, “ is crediting him with 
too much shrewdness. By the gods, he never doubted the 
result, — not he ! He knew the Tlascalans would never 
pass my shield ; he knew the victory was mine, two against 
me as there were. A prince of Tezcuco was never con- 
quered ! ” 

The spirit of the hunter was fast rising ; yet he followed, 
listening. 

‘‘ And, my friends,” the Tezcucan continued, “ who better 
judged the conduct of the combatants that day than the 
king 1 See the result. To-night I take from the faint heart 
his bride, the woman he has loved from boyhood. Then this 
banquet. In whose honor is it 1 What does it celebrate 1 
There is a prize to be awarded, — the prize of courage and 
skill ; and who gets it 1 And further, of the nobles and 
chiefs of the valley, but one is absent, — he whose pru- 
dence exceeds his valor.” 

In such strain the Tezcucan proceeded. And Hualpa, fully 
aroused, pushed through the company to the speaker, but so 
quietly that those who observed him asked no questions. 
Assured that the ’tzin must have friends present, he waited 
for some one to take up his cause. His own impulse was 
restrained by his great dread of the king, whose gardens he 
knew were not fighting-grounds at any time or in any quar- 
rel. But, as the boastful prince continued, the resolve to 
punish him took definite form with the Tihuancan, — to 
such degree had his admiration for the Tzin already risen ! 
Gradually the auditors dropped behind or disappeared; 
finally but one remained, — a middle-aged, portly noble, 
whose demeanor was not of the kind to shake the resolution 
taken. 

Hualpa made his first advance close by the eastern gate of 


/ 


THE FIRST COMBAT. 165 

the garden, to which point he held himself in check lest 
the want of arms should prove an apology for refusing the 
fight. 

“ Will the lord Iztlil’ stop 1 ” he said, laying his hand on 
the Tezcucan’s arm. 

“ I do not know you,” was the answer. 

The sleek courtier also stopped, and stared broadly. 

You do not know me ! I will mend my fortune in that 
respect,” returned the hunter, mildly. “ I have heard what 
you said so ungraciously of my friend and comrade,” — the 
last word he emphasized strongly, — “Guatamozin.” Then 
he repeated the offensive words as correctly as if he had been 
a practised herald, and concluded, “ ^Tow, you know the 'tzin 
cannot be here to-night ; you also know the reason ; but, for 
him and in his place, I say, prince though you are, you have 
basely slandered an absent enemy.” 

“ Who are you ? ” asked the Tezcucan, surprised. 

The comrade of Guatamozin, here to take up his quar- 
rel.” 

“ You challenge me ? ” said Iztlil’, in disdain. 

‘‘Does a prince of Tezcuco, son of ’Hualpilli, require a 
blow ^ Take it then.” 

The blow was given. 

“ See ! Do I not bring you princely blood 1 ” And, in his 
turn, Hualpa laughed scornfully. 

The Tezcucan was almost choked with rage. “ This to 
me, — to me, — a prince and warrior ! ” he cried. 

A danger not considered by the rash hunter now offered 
itself. An outcry would bring down the guard ; and, in 
the event of his arrest, the united representations of Iztlil’ 
and his friend would be sufficient to have him sent forthwith 
to the tigers. The pride of the prince saved him. 

“ Have a care, — ’t is an assassin ! I wiU call the guard at 
the gate ! ” said the courtier, alarmed. 


166 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Call them not, call them not ! I am equal to my own 
revenge. 0, for a spear or knife, — anything to kill ! ” 

“Will you hear me, — a word 1 ” the hunter said. “ I am 
without arms also ; but they can be had.” 

“ The arms, the arms ! ” cried Iztlil’, passionately. 

“We can make the sentinels at the gate clever by a few 
quills of gold; and here are enough to satisfy them.” Hual- 
pa produced a handful of the money. “ Let us try them. 
Outside the gate the street is clear.” 

The courtier protested, but the prince was determined. 

“The arms! Pledge my province and palaces, — every- 
thing for a maquahuitl now.” 

They went to the gate and obtained the use of two of the 
weapons and as many shields. Then the party passed into 
the street, which they found deserted. To avoid the great 
thoroughfare to Iztapalapan, they turned to the north, and 
kept on as far as the corner of the garden wall. 

“ Stay we here,” said the courtier. “ Short time is all you 
want, lord Iztlil’. The feathers on the hawk’s wings are not 
full-fledged.” 

The man spoke confldently ; and it must be confessed that 
the Tezcucan’s reputation and experience justified the assur- 
ance. One advantage the hunter had which his enemies 
both overlooked, — a surpassing composure. From a temple 
near by a red light flared broadly over the place, redeeming 
it from what would otherwise have been vague starlight ; by 
its aid they might have seen his countenance without a trace 
of excitement or passion. One wish, and but one, he had, — 
that Guatamozin could witness the trial. 

The impatience of the Tezcucan permitted but few pre- 
liminaries. 

“ The gods of Mictlan require no prayers. Stand out ! ” 
he said. 

“ Strike ! ” answered Hualpa, 


THE FIRST COMBAT. 


167 


Up rose the glassy blades of the Tezcucan, flashing in the 
light ; quick and strong the blow, yet it clove but the 
empty air. “ For the ’tzin ! ” shouted the hunter, striking 
back before the other was half recovered. The shield was 
dashed aside ; a groan acknowledged a wound in the breast, 
and Iztlir staggered ; another blow stretched him on the 
pavement. A stream of blood, black in the night, stole 
slowly out over the flags. The fight was over. The victor 
dropped the bladed end of his weapon, and surveyed his foe, 
with astonishment, then pity. 

“ Your friend is hurt ; help him ! ” he said, turning to the 
courtier ; but he was alone, — the craven had run. For 
one fresh from the hills, this was indeed a dilemma ! A 
duel and a death in sight of the royal palace ! A chill 
tingled through his veins. He thought rapidly of the alarm, 
the arrest, the king’s wrath, and himself given to glut the 
monsters in the menagerie. Up rose, also, the many fast- 
nesses amid the cedared glades of Tihuanco. Could he but 
reach them ! The slaves of Montezuma, to please a whim, 
might pursue and capture a quail or an eagle ; but there he 
could laugh at pursuit, while in Tenochtitlan he was nowhere 
safe. 

Sight of the flowing blood brought him out of the panic. 
He raised the Tezcucan’s arm, and tore the rich vestments 
from his breast. The wound was a glancing one ; it might 
not be fatal after all ; to save him were worth the trial. Tak- 
ing off his own maxtlatl, he wound it tightly round the body 
and over the cut. Across the street there was a small, open 
house ; lifting the wounded man gently as possible, he carried 
him thither, and laid him in a darkened passage. Where 
else to convey him he knew not ; that was all he could do. 
How for flight, — for Tihuanco. Tireless and swift of foot 
shall they be who catch him on the way ! 

He started for the lake, intending to cross in a canoe rather 


168 


THE FAIR GOD. 


than by the causeway ; already a square was put behind, 
when it occurred to him that the Tezcucan might have slaves 
and a palanquin waiting before the palace door. He began, 
also, to reproach himself for the baseness of the desertion. 
How would the ’tzin have acted 'i When the same Tezcucan 
lay with the dead in the arena, who nursed him back to life ? 

If Hualpa had wished his patron’s presence at the begin- 
ning of the combat, now, flpng from imaginary dangers, — 
flying, like a startled coward, from his very victory, — much 
did he thank the gods that he was alone and unseen. In a 
kind of alcove, or resting-place for weary walkers, with 
which, by the way, the thoroughfares of Tenochtitlan were 
well provided, he sat down, recalled his wonted courage, and 
determined on a course more manly, whatever the risk. 

Then he retraced his steps, and went boldly to the portal 
of the palace, where he found the Tezcucan’s palanquin. 
The slaves in charge followed him without objection. 

“ Take your master to his own palace. Be quick ! ” he 
^aid to them, when the wounded man was transferred to the 
carriage. 

“ It is in Tecuba,” said one of them. 

“ To Tecuba then.” 

He did more ; he accompanied the slaves. Along the 
street, across the causeway, which never seemed of such 
weary length, they proceeded. On the road the Tezcucan 
revived. He said little, and was passive in his enemy’s 
hands. Trom Tecuba the latter hastened back to Tenochtit- 
lan, and reached the portico of Xoli, the Chalcan, just as 
day broke over the valley. 

And such was the hunter’s first emprise as a warrior. 


THE SECOND COMBAT. 


169 


CHAPTEE II 


THE SECOND COMBAT. 



T is hardly worth while to detail the debate between 


JL Hualpa and Xoli ; enough to know that the latter, an- 
ticipating pursuit, hid the son of his friend in a closet attached 
to his restaurant. 

That day, and many others, the police went up and down, 
ferreting for the assassin of the noble Iztlil’. Few premises 
escaped their search. The Chalcan’s, amongst others, was 
examined, but without discovery. Thus safely concealed, the 
hunter throve on the cuisine, and for the loss of liberty was 
consoled by the gossip and wordy wisdom of his accessory, 
and, by what was better, the gratitude of Guatamozin. In 
such manner two weeks passed away, the longest and most 
wearisome of his existence. How sick at heart he grew in 
his luxurious imprisonment ; how he pined for the old hills 
and woodlands ; how he longed once more to go down the 
shaded vales free-footed and fearless, stalking deer or follow- 
ing his ocelot. Ah, what is ambition gratified to freedom 
lost ! 

Unused to the confinement, it became irksome to him, and 
at length intolerable. “ When,” he asked himself, “ is this to 
end 1 Will the king ever withdraw his huntsmen 1 Through 
whom am I to look or hope for pardon 1 ” He sighed, paced 
the narrow closet, and determined that night to walk out and 
see if his old friends the stars were stdl in their places, and 
take a draught of the fresh air, to his remembrance sweeter 
than the new beverage of the Chalcan. And when the night 
came he was true to his resolution. 

Pass we his impatience while waiting an opportunity to 


8 


170 


THE FAIR GOD. 


leave the house unobserved ; his attempts unsuccessfully re- 
peated ; his vexation at the “ noble patrons ” who lounged 
in the apartments and talked so long over their goblets. At 
a late hour he made good his exit. In the tianguez^ which 
was the first to receive him, booths and porticos were closed 
for the night ; lights were everywhere extinguished, except 
on the towers of the temples. As morning would end' his 
furlough and drive him back to the hated captivity, he re- 
solved to make the most of the night ; he would visit the 
lake, he would stroll through the streets. By the gods ! he 
would play freeman to the full. 

In his situation, all places were alike perilous, — houses, 
streets, temples, and palaces. As, for that reason, one direc- 
tion was good as another, he started up the Iztapalapan street 
from the tianguez. Passengers met him now and then; 
otherwise the great thoroughfare was unusually quiet. Saun- 
tering along in excellent imitation of careless enjoyment, he 
strove to feel cheerful ; but, in spite of his efforts, he became 
lonesome, while his dread of the patrols kept him uneasy. 
Such freedom, he ascertained, was not all his fancy colored 
it ; yet it was not so bad as his prison. On he went. Some- 
times on a step, or in the shade of a portico, he would 
sit and gaze at the houses as if they were old friends 
basking in the moonlight ; at the bridges he would also stop, 
and, leaning over the balustrades, watch the waveless water 
in the canal below, and envy the watermen asleep in their 
open canoes. The result was a feeling of recklessness, 
sharpened by a yearning for sometliing to do, some place 
to visit, some person to see; in short, a thousand wishes, 
so vague, however, that they amounted to nothing. 

In this mood he thought of Nenetzin, who, in the tedium 
of his imprisonment, had become to him a constant dream, — 
a vision by which his fancy was amused and his impatience 
soothed ; a vision that faded not with the morning, but at 


THE SECOND COMBAT. 


171 


noon was sweet as at night. With the thought came anoth- 
er, ^ the idea of an adventure excusable only in a lover. 

“ The garden ! ” he said, stopping and thinking. “ The 
garden ! It is the king’s ; so is the street. It is guarded ; 
so is the city. I wiU be in danger ; but that is around me 
everywhere. By the gods ! I wiU go to the garden, and 
look at the house in which she sleeps.” 

Invade the gardens of the great king at midnight ! The 
project would have terrified the Chalcan ; the ’tzin would 
have forbade it ; at any other time, the adventurer himself 
would rather have gone unarmed into the den of a tiger. 
The gardens were chosen places sacred to royalty ; otherwise 
they would have been without walls and without sentinels 
at the gates. In the event of detection and arrest, the 
intrusion at such a time would be without excuse ; death 
was the penalty. 

But the venture was agreeable to the mood he was in ; he 
welcomed it as a relief from loneliness, as a rescue from his 
tormenting void of purpose ; if he saw the dangers, they 
were viewed in the charm of his gentle passion, — griffins 
and goblins masked by Love, the enchanter. He started at 
once ; and now that he had an object before him, there was 
no more loitering under porticos or on the bridges. As the 
squares were put behind him, he repeated over and over, as 
a magical exorcism, “ I will look at the house in which she 
sleeps, — the house in which she sleeps.” 

Once in his progress, he turned aside from the great street, 
and went up a footway bordering a canal. At the next street, 
however, he crossed a bridge, and proceeded to the north 
again. Alm ost before he was aware of it, he reached the 
corner of the royal garden, always to be remembered by him 
as the place of his combat with the Tezcucan. But so intent 
was he upon his present project he scarcely gave it a second 
look. 


172 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The wall was but little higher than his head, and covered 
with snowy stucco ; and where, over the coping, motionless 
in the moonshine, a palm-tree lifted its graceful head, he 
boldly climbed, and entered the sacred enclosure. Drawing 
his mantle close about him, he stole toward the palace, 
selecting the narrow walks most protected by overhanging 
shrubbery. 

A man’s instinct is a good counsellor in danger; often 
it is the only counsellor. Gliding through the shadows, 
cautiously as if hunting, he seemed to hear a recurrent 
whisper, — 

“ Have a care, O hunter ! This is not one of thy 
familiar places. The gardens of the great king have other 
guardians than the stars. Death awaits thee at every gate.” 

But as often came the reply, “ Nenetzin, — I will see 
the house in which she sleeps.” 

He held on toward the palace, never stopping until the 
top, here and there crowned with low turrets, rose above 
the highest trees. Then he listened intently, but heard not 
a sound of life from the princely pile. He sought next 
a retreat, where, secure from observation, he might sit in 
the pleasant air, and give wings to his lover’s fancy. At 
last he found one, a little retired from the central walk, and 
not far from a tank, which had once been, if it were not now, 
the basin of a fountain. Upon a bench, well shaded by a 
clump of flowering bushes, he stretched himself at ease, and 
was soon absorbed. 

The course of his thought, in keeping with his youth, was 
to the future. Most of the time, however, he had no distinct 
idea ; revery, like an evening mist, settled upon hiTn. Some- 
times he lay with closed eyes, shutting himself in, as it 
were, from the world ; then he stared vacantly at the stars, 
or into those blue places in the mighty vault too deep for 
stars ; but most he loved to look at the white walls of the 


THE SECOND COMBAT. 


173 


palace. And for the time he was happy ; his soul may be 
said to have been singing a silent song to the unconscious 
Nenetzin. 

Once or twice he was disturbed by a noise, like the 
suppressed cry of a child ; but he attributed it to some 
of the restless animals in the museum at the farther side 
of the garden. Half the night was gone ; so the watchers 
on the temples proclaimed ; and still he stayed, — still 
dreamed. 

About that time, however, he was startled by footsteps 
coming apparently from the palace. He sat up, ready for 
action. The appearance of a man alone and unarmed 
allayed his apprehension for the moment. Up the walk, 
directly by the hiding-place, the stranger came. As he 
passed slowly on, the intruder thrilled at beholding, not 
a guard or an officer, but Montezuma in person ! As far 
as the tank the monarch walked ; there he stopped, put his 
hands behind him, and loooked moodily down into the pool. 

Garden, palace, Henetzin, — everything but the motionless, 
figure by the tank faded from Hualpa’s mind. Tear came 
upon him ; and no wonder : there, almost within reach, at 
midnight, unattended, stood what was to him the positive 
realization of power, ruler of the Empire, dispenser of richest 
gifts, keeper of life and death ! Guilty, and tremulously 
apprehensive that he had been discovered, Hualpa looked 
each instant to be dragged from his hiding. 

The space around the tank was clear, and strewn with 
shells perfectly white in the moonlight. While the adven- 
turer sat fixed to his seat, watching the king, watching, also, 
a chance of escape, he saw something come from the shrub- 
bery, move stealthily out into the walk, then crouch down. 
How, as I have shown, he was brave ; but this tested all his 
courage. Out further crept the object, moving with the 
stillness of a spirit Scarcely could he persuade himself at 


174 


THE FAIR GOD. 


first that it was not an illusion begotten of his fears ; but its 
form and movements, the very stillness of its advance, at 
last identified it. In all his hunter’s experience, he had 
never seen an ocelot so large. The screams he had heard 
were now explained, — the monster had escaped from the 
menagerie ! 

I cannot say the recognition wrought a subsidence of 
Hualpa’s fears. He felt instinctively for his arms, — he had 
nothing but a knife of brittle itzLi. Then he thought of the 
stories he had heard of the ferocity of the royal tigers, 
and of unhappy wretches flung, by way of punishment, 
into their dens. He shuddered, and turned to the king, 
who still gazed thoughtfully over the wall of the tank. 

Holy Huitzil’ ! the ocelot was creeping upon the mon- 
arch ! The flash of understanding that revealed the fact to 
Hualpa was like the lightning. Breathlessly he noticed the 
course the brute was taking ; there could be no doubt. 
Another flash, and he understood the monarch’s peril, — 
.alone, unarmed, before the guards at the gates or in the 
palace could come, the struggle would be over; cliild of 
the Sun though he was, there remained for him but one 
hope of rescue. 

As, in common with provincials generally, he cherished a 
reverence for the monarch hardly secondary to that he felt 
for the gods, the Tihuancan was inexpressibly shocked to 
see him subject to such a danger. An impulse aside from 
native chivalry urged him to confront the ocelot ; but under 
the circumstances, — and he recounted them rapidly, — he 
feared the king more than the brute. Brief time was there 
for consideration; each moment the peril increased. He 
thought of the ’tzin, then of Nenetzin. 

“ How or never ! ” he said. “ If the gods do but help me, 
I will prove myself ! ” 

And he unlooped the mantle, and wound it about his left 


THE SECOND COMBAT. 


175 


arm ; the knife, poor as it was, he took from his maxtlatl ; 
then he was ready. Ah, if he only had a javelin ! 

To place himself between the king and his enemy was 
what he next set about. Experience had taught him how 
much such animals are governed by curiosity, and upon that 
he proceeded to act. On his hands and knees he crept out 
into the walk. The moment he became exposed, the ocelot 
stopped, raised its round head, and watched him with a 
gaze as intent as his own. The advance was slow and 
stealthy ; when the point was almost gained, the king 
turned about. 

“ Speak not, stir not, 0 king ! ” he cried, without stop- 
ping. “ I will save you, — no other can.” 

Erom creeping man the monarch looked to crouching 
beast, and comprehended the situation. 

Forward went Hualpa, now the chief object of attraction 
to the monster. At last he was directly in front of it. 

“ Call the guard and fly ! It is coming now ! ” 

And through the garden rang the call. Yerily, the hun- 
ter had become the king ! 

A moment after the ocelot lowered its head, and leaped. 
The Tihuancan had barely time to put himself in posture 
to receive the attack, his left arm serving as shield ; upon 
his knee, he struck with the knife. The blood flew, and 
there was a howl so loud that the shouts of the monarch 
were drowned. The mantle was rent to ribbons; and 
through the feathers, cloth, and flesh, the long fangs 
craunched to the bone, — but not without return. This 
time the knife, better directed, was driven to the heart, 
where it snapped short ofi", and remained. The clenched 
jaws relaxed. Eushing suddenly in, Hualpa contrived to 
push the fainting brute into the tank. He saw it sink, saw 
the pool subside to its calm, then turned to Montezuma, 
who, though calling lustily for the guard, had stayed to 


176 


THE FAIR GOD. 


the end. Kneeling upon the stained shells, he laid the 
broken knife at the monarch’s feet, and waited for him 
to speak. 

“ Arise ! ” the king said, kindly. 

The hunter stood up, splashed with blood, the fragments 
of his tilmatli clinging in shreds to his arm, his tunic 
torn, the hair fallen over his face, — a most uncourtierlike 
figure. 

“ You are hurt,” said the king, directly. “ I was once 
thought skilful with medicines. Let me see.” 

He found the wounds, and untying his own sash, rich vdth 
embroidery, wrapped it in many folds around the bleeding 
arm. 

Meantime there was commotion in many quarters. 

Evil take the careless watchers ! ” he said, sternly, no- 
ticing the rising clamor. “ Had I trusted them, — but are 
you not of the guard ? ” 

“ I am the great king’s slave, — his poorest slave, but not 
of his guard.” 

Montezuma regarded him attentively. 

It cannot be ; an assassin would not have interfered 
with the ocelot. Take up the knife, and follow me.” 

Hualpa obeyed. On the way they met a number of the 
guard running in great perplexity ; but without a word to 
them, the monarch walked on, and into the palace. In a 
room where there were tables and seats, books and writing 
materials, maps on the walls and piles of them on the floor, 
he stopped, and seated himself. 

“You know what truth is, and how the gods punish false- 
hood,” he began ; then, abruptly, “ How came you in the 
garden ? ” 

Hualpa fell on his knees, laid his palm on the floor, 
and answered without looking up, for such he knew to be 
a courtly custom. 


THE SECOND COMBAT. 


177 


“ Who may deceive the wise king Montezuma ? I will 
answer as to the gods : the gardens are famous in song and 
story, and I was tempted to see them, and climbed the wall. 
When you came to the fountain, I was close by ; and while 
waiting a chance to escape, I saw the ocelot creeping upon 
you ; and — and — the great king is too generous to deny 
his slave the pardon he risked his life for.” 

“ Who are you ? ” 

‘‘I am from the province of Tihuanco. My name is 
Hualpa.” 

Hualpa, Hualpa,” repeated the king, slowly. “ You 
serve Guatamozin.” 

“ He is my friend and master, 0 king.” 

Montezuma started. “ Holy gods, what madness ! My 
people have sought you far and wide to feed you to the 
tiger in the tank.” 

Hualpa faltered not. 

‘‘0 king, 1 know I am charged with the murder of 
Iztlil’, the Tezcucan. Will it please you to hear my 
story 1 ” 

And taking the assent, he gave the particulars of the com- 
bat, not omitting the cause. “ I did not murder him,” he 
concluded. “If he is dead, I slew him in fair fight, 
shield to shield, as a warrior may, with honor, slay a foe- 
man.” 

“ And you carried him to Tecuba ? ” 

“ Before the judges, if you choose, I will make the ac- 
count good.” 

“ Be it so ! ” the monarch said, emphatically. “ Two days 
hence, in the court, I wiU accuse you. Have there your wit- 
nesses : it is a matter of life and death. How, what of 
your master, the Tzin ? ” 

The question was dangerous, and Hualpa trembled, but 
resolved to be bold. 


1 . 


178 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“If it be not too presumptuous, most mighty king, — if 
a slave may seem to judge his master’s judgment by the offer 
of a word — ” 

“ Speak ! I give you liberty.” 

“ I wish to say,” continued Hualpa, “ that in the court 
there are many noble courtiers who would die for you, 0 
king ; but, of them all, there is not one who so loves you, or 
whose love could be made so profitable, being backed by 
skill, courage, and wisdom, as the generous prince whom you 
call my master. In his banishment he has chosen to serve 
you ; for the night the strangers landed in Cempoalla, he left 
his palace in Iztapalapan, and entered their camp in the 
train of the governor of Cotastlan. Yesterday a courier, 
whom you rewarded richly for his speed in coming, brought 
you portraits of the strangers, and pictures of their arms and 
camp ; that courier was Guatamozin, and his was the hand 
that wrought the artist’s work. 0, much as your faculties 
become a king, you have been deceived : he is not a trai- 
tor.” 

“ Who told you such a fine minstrel’s tale ? ” 

“ The gods judge me, 0 king, if, without your leave, I had 
30 much as dared kiss the dust at your feet. What you 
have graciously permitted me to tell I heard from the ’tzin 
himself.” 

Montezuma sat a long time silent, then asked, “ Did 
your master speak of the strangers, or of the things he 
saw 1 ” 

“ The noble ’tzin regards me kindly, and therefore spoke 
with freedom. He said, mourning much that he could not 
be at your last council to declare his opinion, that you were 
mistaken.” 

The speaker’s face was cast down, so that he could not see 
the frown with which the plain words were received, and he 
continued, — 


THE SECOND COMBAT. 


179 


“ ‘ They are not teules,' * so the ’tzin said, ‘ but men, as 
you and I are ; they eat, sleep, drink, like us ; nor is that 
all, — they die like us ; for in the night,’ he said, ‘ I was in 
their camp, and saw them, by torchlight, bury the body of 
one that day dead.’ And then he asked, ‘ Is that a practice 
among the gods?’ Your slave, 0 king, is not learned as a 
paba, and therefore believed him.” 

Montezuma stood up. 

“ Not teules ! How thinks he they should be dealt with ? ” 

“ He says that, as they are men, they are also invaders, 
with whom an Aztec cannot treat. Nothing for them but 
war ! ” 

To and fro the monarch walked. After which he returned 
to Hualpa and said, — 

“ Go home now. To-morrow I will send you a tilmatli 
for the one you wear. Look to your wounds, and recollect 
the trial. As you love life, have there your proof. I wiU be 
your accuser.” 

“ As the great king is merciful to his children, the gods 
will be merciful to him. I will give myself to the guards,” 
said the hunter, to whom anything was preferable to the 
closet in the restaurant. 

No, you are free.” 

Hualpa kissed the floor, and arose, and hurried from the 
palace to the house of Xoli on the tianguez. The effect of 
his appearance upon that worthy, and the effect of the story 
afterwards, may be imagined. Attention to the wounds, a 
bath, and sound slumber put the adventurer in a better con- 
dition by the next noon. 

An d from that night he thought more than ever of glory 
and Nenetzin. 


♦Gods. 


180 


THE FAIR GOD. 


CHAPTEE III 


THE PORTRAIT. 


EXT day, after the removal of the noon comfitnres, 



and when the princess Tula had gone to the hammock 
for the usual siesta, Nenetzin rushed into her apartment un- 
usually excited. 

“ 0, I have something so strange to tell you, — something 
so stmnge ! ” she cried, throwing herself upon the hammock. 

Her face was bright and very beautiful. Tula looked at 
her a moment, then put her lips lovingly to the smooth fore- 
head. 

“ By the Sun ! as our royal father sometimes swears, my 
sister seems in earnest.” 

“ Indeed I am ; and you will go with me, will you not 1 ” 

“ Ah ! you want to take me to the garden to see the dead 
tiger, or, perhaps, the warrior who slew it, or — now I have 
it — you have seen another minstrel” 

Tula expected the girl to laugh, but was surprised to see 
her eyes fill with tears. She changed her manner instantly, 
and bade the slave who had been sitting by the hammock 
fanning her, to retire. Then she said, — 

“ You jest so much, Xenetzin, that I do not know when 
you are serious. I love you : now tell me what has hap- 
pened.” 

The answer was given in a low voice. 

“You will think me foolish, and so I am, but I cannot 
help it. Do you recollect the dream I told you the night on 
the chinampa ? ” 

“ The night Yeteve came to usl I recollect.” 

“ You know I saw a man come and sit down in our father’s 


THE PORTRAIT. 


181 


palace, — a stranger with blue eyes and fair face, and hair and 
be&,rd like the silk of the ripening maize. I told you I loved 
him, and would have none hut him ; and you laughed at me, 
and said he was the god Quetzal’. 0 Tula, the dream has 
come hack to me many times since ; so often that it seems, 
when I am awake, to have been a reality. I am childish, 
you think, and very weak ; you may even pity me ; hut I 
have grown to look upon the blue-eyed as something lovable 
and great, and thought of him is a part of my mind ; so 
much so that it is useless for me to say he is not, or that I 
am loving a shadow. And now, 0 dear Tula, now comes the 
strange part of my story. Yesterday, you know, a courier 
from Cempoalla brought our father some pictures of the 
strangers lately landed from the sea. This morning I heard 
there were portraits among them, and could not resist a 
curiosity to see them ; so I went, and almost the first one I 
came to, — do not laugh, — almost the first one I came to 
was the picture of him who comes to me so often in my 
dreams. I looked and trembled. There indeed he was ; there 
were the blue eyes, the yellow hair, the white face, even the 
dress, shining as silver, and the plumed crest. I did not stay 
to look at anything else, hut hurried here, scarcely knowing 
whether to be glad or afraid. I thought if you went with 
me I would not he afraid. Go you must ; we will look at the 
portrait together.” And she hid her face, sobbing like a child. 

It is too wonderful for belief. I wiU go,” said Tula. 

She arose, and the slave brought and threw over her 
shoulders the long white scarf so invariably a part of an 
Aztec woman’s costume. Then the sisters took their way to 
the chamber where the pictures were kept, — the same into 
which Hualpa had been led the night before. The king was 
elsewhere giving audience, and his clerks and attendants 
were with him. So the two were allowed to indulge their 
curiosity undis-urbed. 


182 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Nenetzin went to a pile of manuscripts lying on the floor. 
The elder sister was startled by the first picture exposed ; for 
she recognized the handiwork, long since familiar to her, of 
the ’tzin. Nor was she less surprised by the subject, which 
was a horse, apparently a nobler instrument for a god’s re- 
venge than man himself. 

Next she saw pictured a horse, its rider mounted, and in 
Christian armor, and bearing shield, lance, and sword. Then 
came a cannon, the gunner by the carriage, his match lighted, 
while a volume of flame and smoke was bursting from the 
throat of the piece. A portrait followed ; she lifted it up, 
and trembled to see the hero of Nenetzin’s dream ! 

“Did I not teU you so, 0 Tula?” said the girl, in a 
whisper. 

“The face is pleasant and noble,” the other answered, 
thoughtfully ; “ but I am afraid. There is evil in the smile, 
evil in the blue eyes.” 

The rest of the manuscripts they left untouched. The one 
absorbed them ; but with what different feelings ! Nenetzin 
was a-flutter with pleasure, restrained by awe. Impressed 
by the singularity of the vision, as thus realized, a passionate 
wish to see the man or god, whichever he was, and hear his 
voice, may be called her nearest semblance to reflection. 
Like a lover in the presence of the beloved, she was glad and 
contented, and asked nothing of the future. But with Tula, 
older and wiser, it was different. She was conscious of the 
novelty of the incident ; at the same time a presentiment, a 
gloomy foreboding, filled her soul. In slumber we sometimes 
see spectres, and they sit by us and smile ; yet we shrink, 
and cannot keep down anticipations of ill. So Tula was af- 
fected by what she beheld. 

She laid the portrait softly down, and turned to Nenetzin, 
who had now no need to deprecate her laugh. 


THE TRIAL. 


183 


“ The ways of the gods are most strange. Something tells 
me this is their work. I am afraid ; let us go.” 

And they retired, and the rest of the day, swinging in the 
hammock, they talked of the dream and the portrait, and 
wondered what would come of them. 


CHAPTEE lY, 


THE TRIAL. 


UALPA’S adventure in the garden made a great sth 



-1 L in the palace and the city. Profound was the 

astonishment, therefore, when it became known that the 
savior of the king and the murderer of the Tezcucan were 
one and the same person, and that, in the latter character, he 
was to be taken into court and tried for his life, Montezuma 
himseK acting as accuser. Though universally discredited, 
the story had the effect of drawing an immense attendance 
at the trial. 

“ Ho, Chalcan ! Fly not your friends in that way ! ” 

So the broker was saluted by some men nobly dressed, 
whom he was about passing on the great street. He stopped, 
and bowed very low. 

“ A pleasant day, my lords ! Your invitation honors me ; 
the will of his patrons should always be law to the poor 
keeper of a portico. I am hurrying to the trial.” 

“ Then stay with us. We also have a curiosity to see the 
assassin.” 

“ My good lord speaks harshly. The boy, whom I love as 
a son,, cannot be what you call him.” 

The noble laughed. “ Take it not ill, Chalcan. So much 
do I honor the hand that slew the base Tezcucan that I care 


184 


THE FAIR GOD. 


not whether it was in fair fight or by vantage taken. But 
what do you know about the king being accuser to-day? ” 

So he told the boy.” 

Incredible ! ” 

‘‘ I will not quarrel with my lord on that account,” re- 
joined the broker. “ A more generous master than Montezu- 
ma never lived. Are not the people always complaining of 
his liberality ? At the last banquet, for inventing a simple 
drink, did he not give me, his humblest slave, a goblet fit 
for another king 1 ” 

“And what is your drink, though ever so excellent, to the 
saving his life 1 Is not that your argument, Chalcan ? ” 

“ Yes, my lord, and at such peril ! Ah, you should have 
seen the ocelot when taken from the tank ! The keepers 
told me it was the largest and fiercest in the museum.” 

Then Xoli proceeded to edify his noble audience with all 
the gossip pertaining to the adventure ; and as his object was 
to take into court some friends for the luckless hunter more 
influential than himself, he succeeded admirably. Every few 
steps there were such expressions as, “ It would be pitiful 
if so brave a fellow should die ! ” “If I were king, by the 
Sun, I would enrich him from the possessions of the Tezcu- 
can ! ” And as they showed no disposition to interrupt him, 
his pleading lasted to the house of justice, where the com- 
pany arrived not any too soon to procure comfortable seats. 

The court-house stood at the left of the street, a little re- 
tired from the regular line of buildings. The visitors had 
first to pass through a spacious hall, which brought them to 
a court-yard cemented under foot, and on all sides bounded 
with beautiful houses. Then, on the right, they saw the en- 
trance to the chamber of justice, grotesquely called the Tri- 
bunal of God,"^ in which, for ages, had been administered a 
code, vindictive, but not without equity. The great door 

* Prescott, Conq. of Mexico, Vol. I. p. 33. 


THE TRIAL. 


185 


was richly carved ; the windows high and broad, and lined 
with fluted marble ; while a projecting cornice, tastefully fin- 
ished, gave airiness and beauty to the venerable structure. 

The party entered the room with profoundest reverence. 
On a dais sat the judge ; in front of him was the stool bear- 
ing the skull with the emerald crown and gay plumes. Turn- 
ing from the plain tapestry along the walls, the spectators 
failed not to admire the jewels that blazed with alnaost starry 
splendor from the centre of the canopy above him. 

The broker, not being of the class of privileged nobles, 
found a seat with difficulty. To his comfort, however, he 
was placed by the side of an acquaintance. 

“You should have come earlier, Chalcan ; the judge has 
twice used the arrow this morning.” 

“ Indeed ! ” 

“ Once against a boy too much given to pulque ^ — a drunk- 
ard. With the other doubtless you were acquainted.” 

“Was he noble 1 ” 

“ He had good blood, at least, being the son of a Tetzmel- 
locan, who died immensely rich. The witnesses said the 
fellow squandered his father’s estate almost as soon as it came 
to him.” 

“ Better had he been born a thief,” said Xoli, coolly. 

Suddenly, four heralds, with silver maces, entered the 
court-room, announcing the monarch. The people fell upon 
their knees, and so remained until he was seated before the 
dais. Then they arose, and, with staring eyes, devoured the 
beauty of his costume, and the mysterious sanction of man- 
ner, office, power, and custom, which the lovers of royalty 
throughout the world have delighted to sum up in the one 
word, — majesty. The hum of voices filled the chamber. 
Then, by another door, in charge of officers, Hualpa ap- 

* A thief might be punished with slavery : death was the penalty for 
jrodigalism and drunkenness. 


186 


THE FAIR GOD. 


peared, and was led to the dais opposite the king. Before 
an Aztecan court there was no ceremony. The highest and 
the lowliest stood upon a level : such, at least, was the beau- 
tiful theory. 

So intense was the curiosity to see the prisoner that the 
spectators pressed upon each other, for, the moment mindless 
of the monarch’s presence. 

“ A handsome fellow ! ” said an old cacique, approvingly. 

“ Only a boy, my lord ! ” suggested the critic. 

“ And not fierce-looking, either.” 

« Yes — ” 

“ No — ” 

“ He might kill, but in fair fight : so I judge him.” 

And that became the opinion amongst the nobles. 

“ Your friend seems confident, Xoli. I like him,” re^ 
marked the Chalcan’s acquaintance. 

** Hush ! The king accuses.” 

“ The king, said you ! ” And the good man, representing 
the commonalty, was frozen into silence. 

In another quarter, one asked, “ Does he not wear the 
Tzin’s livery 1 ” 

The person interrogated covered his mouth with both 
hands, then drew to the other’s ear, and whispered, — 

“Yes, he’s a ’tzin’s man, and that, they say, is his 
crime.” 

The sharp voice of the executive officer of the court rang 
out, and there was stillness almost breathless. Up rose the 
clerk, a learned man, keeper of the records, and read the in- 
dictment j that done, he laid the portrait of the accused on 
the table before the judge ; then the trial began. 

The judge, playing carelessly with the fatal arrow, said,— 
“ Hualpa, son of Tepaja, the Tihuancan, stand up, and an- 
swer.” 

And the prisoner arose, and saluted court and king, and 


THE TRIAL. 


187 


answered, “It is true, that on the night of the banquet, I 
fought the Tezcucan ; by favor of the gods, I defeated, with- 
out slaying him. He is here in person to acquit me.” 

“ Bring the witness,” said the judge. 

Some of the officers retired ; during their absence a sol- 
emn hush prevailed ; directly they returned, carrying a palan- 
quin. Right before the dais they set it down, and drew 
aside the curtains. Then slowly the Tezcucan came forth, — 
weak, hut unconquered. At the judge he looked, and at the 
king, and all the fire of his haughty soul burned in the glance. 
Borrowing strength from his pride, he raised his head high, 
and said, scornfully, — 

“ The power of my father’s friend is exceeding great ; he 
speaks, and all things obey him. I am sick and suffering ; 
but he bade me come, and I am here. What new shame 
awaits me 1 ” 

Montezuma answered, never more a king than then : 
“ ’Hualpilli was wise ; his son is foolish ; for the memory of 
the one I spare the other. The keeper of this sacred place 
will answer why you are brought here. Look that he par- 
dons you lightly as I have.” 

Then the judge said, “ Prince of Tezcuco, you are here by 
my order. There stands one charged with your murder. 
Would you have had him suffer the penalty! You have 
dared be insolent. See, 0 prince, that before to-morrow you 
pay the treasurer ten thousand quills of gold. See to it.” 
And, returning the portrait to the clerk, he added, “ Let the 
accused go acquit.” 

“ Ah ! said I not so, said I not so ! ” muttered the Chalcan, 
rubbing his hands joyfully, and disturbing the attentive peo- 
ple about him. 

“ Hist, hist ! ” they said, impatiently. “ What more 1 
hearken ! ” 

Hualpa was kneeling before the monarch. 


188 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Most mighty king,” he said, “ if what I have done be 
worthy reward, grant me the discharge of this fine.” 

“ How ! ” said Montezuma, amazed. “ The Tezcucan is 
your enemy ! ” 

Yet he fought me fairly, and is a warrior.” 

The eyes of the king sought those of Iztlil’. 

“ What says the son of ’HualpiUi ? ” 

The latter raised his head with a flash of the old pride. 
“ He is a slave of Guatamozin’s : I scorn the intercession. 
I am yet a prince of Tezcuco.” 

Then the monarch went forward, and sat by the judge. 
Hot a sound was heard, till he spoke. 

Arise, and come near,” he said to Hualpa. “ I will do 
what becomes me.” 

His voice was low and tremulous with feeling, and over 
his face came the peculiar suffusion of sadness afterwards its 
habitual expression. The hunter kissed the floor at his feet, 
and remained kneeling. Then he continued, — 

“ Son of the Tihuancan, I acknowledge I owe my life to 
you, and I call all to hear the acknowledgment. If the peo- 
ple have thought this prosecution part of my gratitude, — if 
they have marvelled at my appearing as your accuser, much 
have they wronged me. I thought of reward higher than 
they could have - asked for you ; but I also thought to try 
you. A slave is not fit to be a chief, nor is every chief fit 
to be a king. I thought to try you : I am satisfied. When 
your fame goes abroad, as it will ; when the minstrels sing 
your valor ; when Tenochtitlan talks of the merchant’s son, 
who, in the garden, slew the tiger, and saved the life of 
Montezuma, — let them also teU how Montezuma rewarded 
him ; let them say I made him noble.” 

Thereupon he arose, and transferred the panache from 
his head to Hualpa’s. Those close by looked at the gift, 
and saw, for the first time, that it was not the crown, 


THE TRIAL. 


189 


but the crest of a chief or cacique. Then they knew 
that the trial was merely to make more public the honors 
designed. 

“ Let them say further,” he continued, “ that with my own 
hand I made him a warrior of the highest grade.” And, bend- 
ing over the adventurer, he clasped around his neck the col- 
lar of the supreme military order of the realm.* “Nor is 
that all. Rank, without competence, is a vexation and 
shame. At the foot of Chapultepec, on the shore of the 
lake, lie an estate and a palace of which I have been 
proud. Let it be said, finally, that I gave them to enrich 
him and his forever.” He paused, and turned coldly to 
the Tezcucan. “But as to the son of ’Hualpilli, his fine 
must stand ; such pride must be punished. He shall pay 
the gold, or forfeit his province.” Then, outstretching 
toward the audience both his arms, he said, so as to be 
heard throughout the chamber, “ Now, 0 my children, 
justice has been done ! ” 

The words were simple ; but the manner, royal as a king’s 
and patriarchal as a pontiff’s, brought every listener to his 
knees. 

“ Stand up, my lord Hualpa ! Take your place in my 
train. I will return to the palace.” 

With that he passed out. 

And soon there was but one person remaining, — Iztlil’, the 
Tezcucan. Brought from Tlacopan by officers of the court, 
too weak to walk, without slaves to help him, at sight of the 
deserted hall his countenance became haggard, the light in 
his hollow eyes came and went, and his broad breast heaved 
passionately ; in that long, slow look he measured the depth 
of his fall. 

* The authorities touching the military orders of the Aztecs are full and 
complete. Prescott, Conq. of Mexico, Vol. I. p. 45 ; Acosta, Book VI. 
ch. 26 ; Mendoza’s Collec. Antiq. of Mexico, Vol. I, pi. 65. 


190 


THE FAIR GOD. 


‘‘ 0 Tezcuco, Tezcuco, city of my fathers ! ” he cried aloud. 
‘‘ This is the last wrong to the last of thy race of kings.” 

A little after he was upon a bench exhausted, his head 
covered by his mantle. Then a hand was laid upon his 
shoulder ; he looked up and saw Hualpa. 

How now ! Has the base-born come to enjoy his tri- 
umph? I cannot strike. Laugh and revile me; but re- 
member, mine is the blood of kings. The gods loved my 
father, and wiU not abandon his son. In their names I curse 
you ! ” 

Tezcucan, you are proud to foolishness,” said the hunter, 
calmly. I came to serve you. Within an hour I have be- 
come master of slaves — ” 

And were yourself a slave ! ” 

“Well, I won my freedom ; I slew a beast and conquered 
a — But, prince, my slaves are at the door. Command them 
to Tlacopan.” 

“ Play courtier to those who have influence ; lean your 
Ambition upon one who can advance it. I am undone.” 

“ I am not a coiudier. The service I offer you springs 
from a warrior’s motive. I propose it, not to a man of 
power, but to a prince whose courage is superior to his 
fortune.” 

For a moment the Tezcucan studied the glowing face; 
then his brows relaxed, and, sighing like a woman, and like 
a woman overcome by the unexpected gentleness, he bowed 
his head, and covered his face with his hands, that he might 
not be accused of tears. 

“ Let me call the slaves, 0 prince,” said Hualpa. 

Thrice he clapped his hands, whereat four tattooed tamanes 
stalked into the chamber with a palanquin. Iztlil’ took seat 
in the carriage, and was being borne away, when he called 
the hunter. 

“ A word,” he said, in a voice from which all passion was 


THE TRIAL. 


m 


gone. “ Thougli my enemy, yon have been generous, and re- 
membered my misfortunes when all others forsook me. Take 
with you this mark. I do not ask you to wear it, for the 
time is nearly come when the son of ’Hualpilli will he pro- 
scribed throughout the valley ; hut keep it in witness that I, 
the son of a king, acknowledged your right and fitness to he 
a nohle. Tarewell.” 

Hualpa could not refuse a present so delicately given ; ex. 
tending his hand, he received a bracelet of gold, set with an 
Aztec diamond of immense value. He clasped it upon his 
arm, and followed the carriage into the street. 


BOOK FOUR. 


CHAPTER I. 


THE KING GIVES A TRUST TO HUALPA. 

ND now was come the time of all the year most pleas- 



lLjL. ant, — the time when the maguey was greenest, when 
the cacti burst into flowers, and in every field women and 
children, with the strong men, went to pluck the ripened 
maize. Of the summer, only the wealth and beauty remained. 
The Goddess of Abundance divided the worship which, at 
other seasons, was mostly given to Huitzih and Tezca’ ; * in 
her temples the days were all of prayer, hymning, and 
friestly ceremony. No other towers sent up such columns of 
the blue smoke so grateful to the dwellers in the Sun ; in no 
other places were there such incessant burning of censers, 
presentation of gifts, and sacrifice of victims. Throughout 
the valley the people carolled those songs the sweetest and 
most millennial of men, — the songs of harvest, peace, and 


plenty. 


I have before said that Tezcuco, the lake, was the especial 
pride of the Aztecs. When the sky was clear, and the air 
tranquil, it was very beautiful ; but when the king, with his 
court, all in state, set out for the hunting-grounds on the 
northern shore, its beauty rose to splendor. By his invita- 
tion great numbers of citizens, in style suited to the honor, 

♦ Tezcatlipoca, a god next in rank to the Supreme Being. Supposed 
creator of the world. 


THE KING GIVES A TRUST TO HUALPA. 


193 


joined their canoes to the flotilla composing the retinue. 
And let it not be forgotten that the Aztec loved his canoe as 
in Christendom the good knight loves his steed, and deco- 
rated it with all he knew of art ; that its prow, rising high 
above the water, and touched by the master sculptors, was 
dressed in garlands and fantastic symbols ; that its light and 
shapely canopy, elegantly trimmed within, was shaded bj 
curtains, and surmounted by trailing streamers ; and that the 
slaves, four, six, and sometimes twelve in number, dipped 
and drew their flashing paddles in faultless time, and shone 
afar brilliant in livery. So, when the multitude of vessels 
cleared the city walls, and with music and songs dashed into 
the open lake, the very water seemed to dance and quiver 
with a sensuous pleasure. 

In such style did Montezuma one pleasant morning leave 
his capital. Calm was the lake, and so clear that the reflec- 
tion of the sky above seemed a bed of blue below. There 
were music, and shouts, and merry songs, and from the city 
the cheers and plaudits of the thousands who, from the * 
walls and housetops, witnessed the pageant. And his canoe 
was the soul of the pomp, and he had with him his favorite 
minstrel and jester, and Maxtla ; yet there was something 
on his mind that made him indifferent to the scene and pro- 
spective sport. Some distance out, by his direction, the 
slaves so manoeuvred that all the flotilla passed him ; then 
he said to Maxtla, “ The will has left me. I will not hunt 
to-day ; yet the pastime must go on ; a recall now were 
unkingly. Look out for a way to follow the train, while I 
return.” 

The chief arose, and swept the lake with a bright glance. 

“ Yonder is a chinampa ; I can take its master’s canoe.” 

“ Do so. Give this ring to the lord Cuitlahua, and tell 
him to conduct the hunt.” 

And soon Maxtla was hurrying to the north with the sig- 
9 M 


194 


THE FAIR GOD. 


net, while the monarch was speeding more swiftly to the 
south. 

‘‘ For Iztapalapan,” said the latter to his slaves. “ Take 
me there before the lords reach the hunting-grounds, and you 
shall have a feast to-night.” 

They bent to the paddles, and rested not until he saw the 
white houses of the city, built far into the lake in imitation 
of the capital 

“ Not to the town, but the palace of Guatamozin,” he then 
said. “ Speed ! the sun is rising high.” 

Arrived at the landing, Montezuma set forward alone to the 
palace. The path led into a grove of cedar and wild orange- 
trees, interspersed with ceihas, the true kings of the forests 
of New Mexico. The air was sweet with perfume j birds 
sang to each other from the coverts ; the adjacent cascades 
played their steady, muffled music ; and altogether morning 
on the lake was less beautiful than morning in the tzin’s 
garden. In the multitude of walks he became bewildered; 
but, as he was pleased by all he beheld, he walked on with- 
out consulting the sun. At length, guided by the sound of 
voices, he came to the arena for martial games ; and there he 
found Hualpa and lo’ practising with the bow. 

He had been wont to regard lo’ as a child, unripe for 
any but childish amusements, and hardly to be trusted alone. 
Absorbed in his business of governing, he had not observed 
how increase of years brought the boy strength, stature, and 
corresponding tastes. Now he was admonished of his neglect ; 
the stripling should have been familiarized with bow, sling, 
and maquahuitl ; men ought to have been given him for 
comrades ; the warrior’s school, even the actual field, had 
been better for him than the nursery. An idea of ambition 
also occurred to the monarch. When he himself was gathered 
to his fathers, who was to succeed him on the throne? 
Cuitlahua, Cacama, the lord of Tlacopan ? Why not lo’ % 


THE KING GIVES A TRUST TO HUALPA. 


195 


Meanwhile the two diligently pursued their sport. At 
the moment the king came upon them, Hualpa was giving 
some directions as to the mode of holding the brave weapon. 
The boy listened eagerly, — a sign that pleased the observer, 
for nothing is so easy as to flatter the hope of a dreamy 
heart. Observing them further, he saw lo’ take the stand, 
draw the arrow quite to the head, and strike the target. At 
the second trial, he pierced the centre. Hualpa embraced 
the scholar joyously ; and thereupon the king warmed to- 
ward the warrior, and tears blinded his eyes. Advancing 
into the arena, the clanging of his golden sandals announced 
his presence. 

And they knelt and kissed the earth. 

“ Stand up ! ” he said, with the smile which gave his coun- 
tenance a womanly beauty. And to Hualpa he added, “ I 
thought your palace by Chapultepec would be more attrac- 
tive than the practice of arms ; more credit should have 
been given the habits of a hunter. I was right to make 
you noble. But what can you make of lo’ 1 ” 

“ If you will give the time, 0 king, I can make him of 
excellent skill.” 

“ And what says the son of Tecalco 1 ” 

lo’ knelt again, saying, I have a pardon to ask — ” 

“ A pardon ! For wishing to be a warrior 1 ” 

“ If the king wiU hear me, — I have heard you say that in 
your youth you divided your days between the camp and 
the temples, learning at the same time the duties of the 
priest and the warrior. That I may be able some day to 
serve you, 0 king, I have stolen away from Tenochtitlan — ” 
Montezuma laid his hand tenderly on the boy’s head, and 
said, “Ho more. I know all you would say, and will ask 
the great Huitzil’ to give you strength and courage. Take 
my permission to be a warrior. Arise, now, and give me 
the bow. It is long since I pulled the cord, and my hand 


i96 


THE FAIR GOD. 


may have weakened, and my eyes become dim ; but I chab 
lenge you both ! I have a shield wrought of pearl and gold, 
unfit for the field, yet beautiful as a prize of skill. Who 
plants an arrow nearest yon target’s heart, his the shield 
shall be.” 

The challenge was accepted, and after preparation, the 
monarch dropped his mantle, and took the stand. He drew 
the shaft to his ear with a careless show of skill ; and when 
it quivered in the target about a palm’s breadth below the 
mark, he said, laughing, “ I am at least within the line of 
the good bowman. A Tlascalan would not have escaped 
scarless.” 

lo’ next took the bow, and was so fortunate as to hit the 
lower edge of the heart squarely above the king’s bolt. 

“ Mine is the shield, mine is the shield ! ” he cried, exult- 
antly. “ 0 that a minstrel were here ! I would have a 
Song, — my first song ! ” 

“Very proud ! ” said the king, good-humoredly. “ Know 
yju, boy, the warrior counts his captives only when the bat- 
tle is ended. Here, lord Hualpa, the boaster should be 
beaten. Prove your quality. To you there may be more 
in tnis trial than a song or a golden shield.” 

The hunter took the vacant place ; his arrow whistled 
away, and the report came back from the target. By a happy 
accident, if such it were, the copper point was planted ex- 
actly in the middle of the space between the other two. 

More joyous than before arose the cry of lo’, “ I have 
beaten a king and a warrior 1 Mine is the shield, mine is 
the shield ! ” 

And the king, listening, said to himself, “ I remember my 
own youth, and its earliest victory, and how I passed from 
successes at first the most trifling. Ah ! who but Huitzil’, 
father of all the gods, can tell the end ? Blessed the day 


THE KING GIVES A TRUST TO HUALPA. 


197 


when I can set before him the prospect of a throne instead 
of a shield ! ” 

The target was brought him, and he measured the dis- 
tance of each arrow from the centre ; and when he saw how 
exactly Hualpa’s was planted between the others, his subtile 
mind detected the purpose and the generosity. 

“ The victory is yours, 0 my son, and so is the shield,” 
he said, slowly and thoughtfully. “ But ah ! were it given 
you to look with eyes like mine, — with eyes sharpened by 
age for the discovery of blessings, your rejoicing would be 
over a friend found, whose love is proof against vanity and 
the hope of reward.” 

Hualpa understood him, and was proud. What was the 
prize lost to Montezuma gained 1 

“ It grows late ; my time is sacred,” said the king. 
“ Lord Hualpa, stay and guide me to the palace. And 
lo’, be you my courier to the ’tzin. Go before, and tell him 
I am coming.” 

The boy ran ahead, and as they leisurely followed him, 
the monarch relapsed into melancholy. In the shade of a 
ceiba tree he stopped, and said, “ There is a service you 
might do me, that lies nearer my heart than any other.” 

“ The will of the great king is mine,” Hualpa rephed, with 
a low reverence. 

“ When I am old,” pursued Montezuma, “ when the things 
of earth begin to recede from me, it would be pleasant to 
have a son worthy to lift the Empire from my shoulders. 
While I am going up the steps of the temple, a seeker of the 
holy peace that lies in worship and prayer, the government 
would not then be a care to disturb me. But I am sensible 
that no one could thus relieve me unless he had the strong 
hand of a warrior, and was fearless except of the gods. lo’ 
IS my only hope. From you he first caught the desire of 
greatness, and you can make him great. Take him as a 


198 


THE FAIR GOD. 


comrade ; love him as a brother ; teach him the elements of 
war, — to wield spear and maquahuitl ; to bear shield, to 
command, and to he brave and generous. Show him the 
ways of ambition. Above all,” — as he spoke he raised his 
head and hand, and looked the impersonation of his idea, — 
“ above all, let him know that a king may find his glory as 
much in the love of his people as in his power. Am I 
understood ? ” 

Hualpa did not look up, but said, ‘‘Am I worthy! I 
have the skill of hand ; hut have I the learning 1 ” 

“To make him learned belongs to the priests. I only 
asked you to. make him a warrior.” 

“ Does not that belong to the gods ! ” 

“ No : he derives nothing from them hut the soul. They 
will not teach him to launch the arrow.” 

“ Then I accept the charge. Shall he go with me ! ” 

“ Always, — even to battle.”, 

0 mighty king ! was the shadow of the coming fate upon 
thy spirit then 1 


CHAPTER II. 


THE KING AND THE V-;iN. 


HE visit was unexpected to Guatamozin, and its object 



a mystery ; hut he thought only of paying the guest 
meet honor and respect, for he was still the great king. And 
so, bareheaded and unarmed, he went forth, and meeting 
him in the garden, knelt, and saluted him after the manner 
of the court. 

“ I am glad to say the word of welcome to my father’s 
brother. Know, 0 king, that my house, my garden, and all 
you behold are yours.” 


THE KING AND THE ’TZIN. 


199 


Hualpa left them ; then Montezuma replied, the sadness 
of his voice softening the austerity of his manner, — 

‘‘I have loved you well, Guatamozin. Very good it was 
to mark you come up from boyhood, and day by day grow 
in strength and thought. I never knew one so rich in 
promise. Ours is a proud race, and you seemed to have all its 
genius. From the beginning you were thoughtful and provi- 
dent ; in the field there was always a victory for you, and in 
council your words were the soul of policy. 0, ill was the 
day evil came between us, and suspicion shattered the love 
I bore you ! Arise ! I have not crossed the lake for ex- 
planations ; there is that to speak of more important to us 
both.” 

The ’tzin arose, and looked into the monarch’s face, his 
own suffused with grief. 

“ Is not a king punished for the wrong he does ? ” 

Montezuma’s brows lowered, chilling the fixed look which 
was his only answer ; and the ’tzin spoke on. 

“I cannot accuse you directly; hut this I wiU say, 0 
king : a just man, and a brave, never condemns another upon 
suspicion.” 

The monarch’s eyes blazed with sudden fife, and from his 
maxtlatl he drew a knife. The ’tzin moved not ; the armed 
hand stopped ; an instant each met the other’s gaze, then the 
weapon was flung away. 

“ I am a child,” said the king, vexed and ashamed. 

When I came here I did not think of the past, I thought 
only of the Empire ; hut trouble has devoured my strength 
of purpose, until my power mocks me, and, most miserable 
of men, I yearn to fly from myself, without knowing where 
to find relief. A vague impulse — whence derived, except 
from intolerable suffering of mind, I know not — brought 
me to you. 0 ’tzin, silent be the differences that separate 
US. Yours I know to be a tongue of undefiled truth ; and 


200 


THE FAIR GOD. 


if not for me now, for our country, and the renown of our 
fathers, I believe you will speak.” 

The shame, the grief, and the self-accusation moved the 
Tzin more than the deadly menace. 

Set my feet, 0 king ! set my feet in the way to serve or 
save my country, and I will tread it, though every step be 
sown with the terrors of Mictlan.” 

I did not misjudge you, my son,” the king said, when 
he had again perfectly mastered his feelings. 

And Guatamozin, yet more softened, would have given 
him all the old love, but that Tula, contracted to the‘Tez- 
cucan, rose to memory. Checking the impulse, he regarded 
the unhappy monarch sorrowfully. 

And the latter, glancing up at the sun, said, — 

“ It is getting late. I left the train going to the hunting- 
grounds. By noon they will return, and I wish to be at the 
city before them. My canoe lies at the landing ; walk there 
with me, and on the way I will speak of the purpose of my 
visit.” 

Their steps as they went were slow, and their faces down- 
cast and solemn. The king was first to speak. 

“ As the time requires, I have held many councils, and 
taken the voice of priest, warrior, and merchant ; and they 
agree in nothing but their confusion and fear.” 

“ The king forgets, — I have been barred his councils, and 
know not what they considered.” 

“ True, true ; yet there is but one topic in all Anahuac, — 
in the Empire. Of that, the tamanes talk gravely as their 
masters ; only one class asks, ‘ Who are the white men making 
all this trouble 1 ’ while the other argues, ‘ They are here ; 
they are gods. What are we to doV ” 

“ And what say the councils, 0 king 1 ” 

“ It could not be that all would speak as one man. Of 
different castes, they are differently moved. The pabaa 


THE KING AND THE 'TZIN. 


201 


believe the Sun has sent us some godly warriors, whom 
nothing earthly can subdue. They advise patience, friend- 
ship, and peace. ‘The eye of Huitzil’ is on them, num- 
bering their marches. In the shade of the great temple 
he awaits, and there he will consume them with a breath,’ 
— so say the pabas. The warriors are dumb, or else bor- 
row and reassert the opinions of the holy men. ‘ Give 
them gold, if they will depart ; if not that, give them 
peace, and leave the issue to the gods,’ — so they say. 
Cuitlahua says war ; so does Cacama. The merchants 
and the people have no opinion, — nothing but fear. For 
myself, yesterday I was for war, to-day I am for peace. So 
far I have chosen to act upon the advice of the pabas. I 
have sent the strangers many presents and friendly messages, 
and kept ambassadors in their camp ; but while preserving 
such relations, I have continually forbade their coming to 
Tenochtitlan. They seem bolder than men. Who but 
they would have undertaken the march from Cempoalla 1 
What tribes or people could have conquered Tlascala, as they 
have 1 You have heard of their battles. Did they not in a 
day what we have failed to do in a hundred years 1 With 
Tlascala for ally, they have set my word at naught, and, 
whether they be of the sun or the earth, they are now 
marching upon Cholula, most sacred city of the gods. And 
from Cholula there is but one more march. Already from 
the mountains they have looked wistfully down on our valley 
of gardens, upon Tenochtitlan. 0 ’tzin, ’tzin, can we forget 
the prophecy 1 ” 

“ Shall I say what I think % WiU the king hear me ] ” 
asked Guatamozin. 

“ For that I came. Speak ! ” 

“ I obey gladly. The opportunity is dearer to me than 
any honor. And, speaking, I will remember of what race 
I am.” 


202 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ Speak as if you were king.” 

“ Then — I condemn your policy.” 

The monarch’s face remained placid. If the bluff words 
wounded him, he dissembled consummately. 

“ It was not well to go so often to the temple,” Guata- 
mozin continued. “ Huitzil’ is not there ; the pabas have 
only his name, his image and altar •; your breast is his true 
temple ; there ought you to find him. Yesterday, you 
say, you were for war ; the god was with you then : to-day 
you are for peace; the god has abandoned you. I know 
not in what words the lords Cuitlahua and Cacama urged 
their counsel, nor on what grounds By the Sun ! theirs is 
the only policy that comports with the fame of a ruler of 
Aztecs. Why speak of any other? For me, I would seek 
the stranger’s in battle and die, sooner than a minstrel should 
sing, or tradition tell, how Guatamozin, overcome by fear, 
dwelt in their camp praying peace as the beggar prays for 
bread.” 

Literally, Guatamozin was speaking like a king. 

“ I have heard your pearl-divers say,” he continued, that 
they never venture into a strange sea without dread. Like the 
new sea to them, this subject has been to your people ; but how- 
ever the declaration may strike your ears, 0 king, I have sound- 
ed all its depths. While your priests were asking questions of 
speechless hearts ; while your lords were nursing their love 
of ease in the shade and perfume of your palace ; while your 
warriors, forgetful of their glory, indulged the fancy that the 
new enemy were gods ; while Montezuma was watching stars, 
and studying omens, and listening to oracles which the gods 
know not, hoping for wisdom to be found nowhere as cer- 
tainly as in his own royal instincts, — face to face with the 
strangers, in their very camp, I studied them, their cus- 
toms, language, and nature. Take heart, 0 king! Gods, 
indeed ! Why, like men, I have seen them hunger and thirst ; 


THE KING AND THE ’TZIN. 


203 


like men, heard them complain ; on the other hand, like 
men, I have seen them feed and drink to surfeit, and heard 
them sing from gladness. What means their love of gold ? 
If they come from the Sun, where the dwellings of the gods, 
and the hiUs they are huilt on, are all of gold, why should 
they he seeking it here h Nor is that aU. I listened to 
the interpreter, through whom their leader explained his 
religion, and they are worshippers, like us, only they adore a 
woman, instead of a great, heroic god — ” 

“ A woman ! ” exclaimed the king. 

‘‘Nay, the argument is that they worship at all. Gods do 
not adore each other ! ” 

They had now walked some distance, and so absorbed had 
Montezuma been that he had not observed the direction 
they were pursuing. Emerging suddenly -^rom a cypress- 
grove, he was surprised to find the path terminate in a small 
lake, which, at any other time, would have excited his ad- 
miration. TaU trees, draped to their topmost boughs in lux- 
uriant vines, encircled the little expanse of water, and in its 
midst there was an island, crowned with a kiosk or sum- 
mer-house, and covered with orange shrubs and tapering 
palms. 

“ Bear with me, 0 king,” said Guatamozin, observing his 
wonder. ‘“I brought you here that you may be abso- 
lutely convinced of the nature of our enemies. On that 
island I have an argument stronger than the vagaries of 
pabas or the fancies of warriors, — a visible argument.” 

He stepped into a canoe lying at the foot of the path, and, 
with a sweep of the paddle, drove across to the island. 
Bemaining there, he pushed the vessel back. 

“ Come over, 0 king, come over, and see.” 

Montezuma followed boldly, and was led to- the kiosk. 
The retreat was not one of frequent, resort. ' Several times 
they were stopped by vines grown across the path. In- 


204 


THE FAIR GOD. 


side the house, the visitor had no leisure for observation ; 
he was at once arrested by an object that filled him with 
horror. On a table was a human head. Squarely severed 
from the body, it stood upright on the base of the neck, 
looking, with its ghastly, white face, directly toward the en- 
trance. The features were swollen and ferocious ; the black 
brows locked in a frown, with which, as was plainly to 
be seen, nature had as much to do as death ; the hair was 
short, and on the crown almost worn away ; heavy, matted 
beard covered' the cheeks and chin ; finally, other means of 
identification being wanted, the coarse, upturned mustache 
would have betrayed the Spaniard. Montezuma surveyed 
the head for some time ; at length, mastering his deep loath- 
ing, he advanced to the table. 

“ A teuU ! ” he said, in a low voice. 

“ A man, — only a man ! ” exclaimed Guatamozin, so 
sternly that the monarch shrank as if the blue lips of the 
dead had spoken to him. “ Ask yourself, 0 king, Do the 
gods die ? ” 

Montezuma smiled, either at his own alarm or at the 
ghastly argument. 

“ Whence came the trophy 1 ” he asked. 

“ Have you not heard of the battle of Hauhtlan] ” 

“ Surely ; but tell it again.” 

“ When the strangers marched to Tlascala,” the ’tzin be- 
gan, “ their chief left a garrison behind him in the town he 
founded. I was then on the coast. To convince the people, 
and particularly the army, that they were men, I determined 
to attack them. An opportunity soon occurred. Your tax- 
gatherers happening to visit Hauhtlan, the township re- 
volted, and claimed protection of the garrison, who marched 
to their relief. At my instance, the caciques drew their 
bands together, and we set upon the enemy. The Totona- 
ques fled at our first war-cry ; but the strangers welcomed us 


THE KING AND THE ’TZIN. 


205 


with a new kind of war. They were few in number, hut 
the thunder seemed theirs, and they hailed great stones 
upon us, and after a while came against us upon their fierce 
animals. AVhen my warriors saw them come leaping on, 
they fled. All was lost. I had but one thought more, — a 
captive taken might save the Empire. I ran where the 
strangers clove their bloody way. This ” — and he pointed 
to the head — was the chief, and I met him in the rout, 
raging like a tiger in a herd of deer. He was hold and 
strong, and, shouting his battle-cry, he rushed upon me. 
His spear went through my shield. I wrenched it from him, 
and slew the beast ; then I dragged him away, intending to 
bring him alive to Tenochtitlan ; but he slew himself. So 
look again ! What likeness is there in that to a god ? 0 

king, I ask you, did ever its sightless eyes see the glories of 
the Sun, or its rotting lips sing a song in heaven ? Is 
HuitziF or Tezca’ made of such stuff!” 

The monarch, turning away, laid his hand familiarly on 
the ’tzin’s arm, and said, — 

“ Come, I am content. Let us go.” 

And they started for the landing. 

“ The strangers, as I have said, my son, are marching to 
Cholula. And Malinche — so their chief is called — ■ now 
says he is coming to Tenochtitlan.” 

“ To Tenochtitlan ! In its honored name, in the name of 
its kings and gods, I protest against his coming ! ” 

“ Too late, too late ! ” replied Montezuma, his face work^ 
ing as though- a pang were at his heart. “I have invited 
him to come.” 

“ Alas, alas ! ” cried Guatamozin, solemnly. “ The day he 
enters the capital will be the commencement of the woe, if 
it has not already commenced. The many victories will 
have been in vain. The provinces wiU drop away, like 
threaded pearls when the string is broken. 0 king, better 


206 


THE FAIR GOD. 


had you buried your crown, — better for your people, better 
for your own glory ! ” 

“ Your words are bitter,” said the monarch, gloomily. 

I speak from the fulness of a heart darkened by a vision 
of Anahuac blasted, and her glory gone,” returned the ’tzin. 
Then in a lament, vivid with poetic coloring, he set forth a 
picture of the national ruin, — the armies overthrown, the 
city wasted, the old religion supplanted by a new. At the 
shore where the canoe was waiting, Montezuma stopped, and 
said, — 

“You have spoken boldly, and I have listened patiently. 
One thing more : What does Guatamozin say the king should 
dol” 

“ It is not enough for the servant to know his own place ; 
he should know his master’s also. I say not what the 
king should do, but I will say what I would do if I were 
king.” 

Eising from the obeisance with which he accompanied the 
words, he said, boldly, — 

“ Cholula should be the grave of the invaders. The whole 
population should strike them in the narrow streets where 
they can be best assailed. Shut up in some square or temple, 
hunger will fight them for us, and win. But I would not 
trust the citizens alone. In sight of the temples, so close that 
a conch could summon them to the attack, I would encamp 
a hundred thousand warriors. Better the desolation of 
Cholula than Tenochtitlan. If all things else failed, I would 
take to the last resort ; I would call in the waters of Tezcuco 
and drown the city to the highest azoteas. So would I, O 
king, if the crown and signet were mine.” 

Montezuma looked from the speaker to the lake. 

“ The project is bold,” he said, musingly ; “ but if it 
failed, my son 1 ” 

“ The failure should be but the beginning of the war.” 


LOVE ON THE LAKE. 


207 


“ What would the nations say ? ’’ 

** They would say, ‘ Montezuma is still the great king/ If 
they do not that — ” 

“ WHiat then % ” 

“ CaU on the teotuctli. The gods can be made speak what 
ever your policy demands.” 

“ Does my son blaspheme % ” said Montezuma, angrily. 

Nay, I but spoke of what has happened. Long rule the 
good god of our fathers ! ” 

Yet the monarch was not satisfied. Never before had dis- 
course been addressed to him in strain so bold. 

“ They see all things, even our hearts,” he said, turning 
coldly away. “ Farewell. A courier wHl come for you when 
your presence is wanted in the city.” 

And so they separated, conscious that no healing had been 
brought to their broken friendship. As the canoe moved off, 
the ’tzin knelt, but the king looked not that way again. 


V* 

CHAPTER III. 

LOVE ON THE LAKE. 


** "TX7"HAT can they mean ? Here have they been loiter- 
V V ing since morning, as if the lake, like the tianguez, 
were a place for idlers. As I love the gods, if I knew 
them, they should be punished ! ” 

So the farmer of the chinampa heretofore described as the 
property of the princess Tula gave expression to his wrath ; 
after which he returned to his employment ; that is, he 
went crawling among the shrubs and flowers, pruning-knife 
in hand, here clipping a limb, there loosening the loam. 
Emerging from the thicket after a protracted stay, his ire was 
again aroused. 


208 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ Still there ! Thieves maybe, watching a chance to steal. 
But we shall see. My work is done, and I will not take eyes 
off of them again.” 

The good man’s alarm was occasioned by the occupants of 
a canoe, which, since sunrise, had been plying about the 
garden, never stationary, seldom more than three hundred 
yards away, yet always keeping on the side next the city. 
Once in a while the slaves withdrew their paddles, leaving 
the vessel to the breeze ; at such times it drifted so near that 
he could see the voyageurs reclining in the shade of the blue 
canopy, wrapped in escaujnls such as none but lords or dis- 
tinguished merchants were permitted to wear. 

The leisurely voyageurs^ on their part, appeared to have a 
perfect understanding of the light in which they were viewed 
from the chinampa. 

‘‘ There he is again ! See ! ” said one of them. 

The other lifted the curtain, and looked, and laughed. 

“ Ah ! if we could send an arrow there, just near enough to 
whistle through the orange-trees. Tula would never hear 
the end of the story. He would tell her how two thieves 
came to plunder him ; how they shot at him ; how narrowly 
he escaped — ” 

“ And how valiantly he defended the garden. By Our 
Mother, lo’, I have a mind to try him ! ” 

Hualpa half rose to measure the distance, but fell back at 
once. “ Ho. Better that we get into no difficulty. We 
are messengers, and have these flowers to deliver. Besides, 
the judge is not to my liking.” 

‘‘ Tula is merciful, and would forgive you for the ’tzin’s 
sake.” 

I meant the judge of the court,” Hualpa said, soberly. 
“You never saw him lift the golden arrow, as if to draw it 
across your portrait. It is pleasanter sitting here, in the 
shade, rocked by the water.” 


LOVE ON THE LAKE. 


209 


“ And pleasanter yet to be made noble and master of a 
palace over by Chapultepec,” lo’ answered. “ But see ! 
Yonder is a canoe.” 

“From the cityT’ 

“ It is too far off ; wait awhile.” 

But Hualpa, impatient, leaned over the side, and looked 
for himself. At the time they were up in the northern part 
of the lake, at least a league from the capital. Long, regular 
swells, something like those of the sea when settling into 
calm, tumbled the surface ; far to the south, however, he dis- 
cerned the canoe, looking no larger than a blue- winged gull. 

“It is coming ; I see the prow this way. Is the vase 
ready 1 ” 

“ The vase ! You forget ; there are two of them.” 

Hualpa looked down confused. 

“ Does the ’tzin intend them both for Tula 1 ” 

Hualpa was the more embarrassed. 

“Flowers have a meaning; sometimes they tell tales. 
Let* me see if I cannot read what the ’tzin would say to 
Tula.” ♦ 

And lo’ went forward and brought the vases, and, placing 
them before him, began to study each flower. 

“ lo’,” said Hualpa, in a low voice, “ but one of the vases 
is the ’tzin’s.” 

“And the other 1 ” asked the prince, looking up. 

Hualpa’s face flushed deeper. 

“ The other is mine. Have you not two sisters 1 ” 

lo’s eyes dilated; a moment he was serious, then he 
burst out laughing. 

“ I have you now ! Henetzin, — she, too, has a lover.” 

The hunter never found himself so at loss ; he played with 
the loops of his escaupil, and refused to take his eyes off the 
coming canoe. Through his veins the blood ran merrily ; in 
his brain it intoxicated, like wine. 


210 


THE FAIR GOD. 


‘‘ I have heard how love makes women of warriors ; now 
I will see, — I will see how brave you are.” 

“ Ho, slaves ! Put the canoe about ; yonder are those 
whom I would meet,” Hualpa shouted. 

The vessel was headed to the south. A long distance had 
to be passed, and in the time the ambassador recovered him- 
self. Lying down again, and twanging the chord of his bow, 
he endeavored to compose a speech to accompany the deliv- 
ery of the vase to Tula. But his thoughts would return to 
his own love ; the laugh with which lo’ received his explan- 
ation flattered him ; and, true to the logic of the passion, 
he already saw the vase accepted, and himself the favored 
of Henetzin. From that point the world of dreams was 
but a step distant ; he took the step, but was brought back 
by lo.’ 

“ They recognize us ; Henetzin waves her scarf ! ” 

The approaching vessel was elegant as the art of the Aztecan 
shipmaster could makS it. The prow was sculptured into 
the head and slender, curved neck of a swan. The passen- 
gers, fair as ever journeyed on sea wave, ^t under a canopy 
of royal green, above which floated a panache of long, trailing 
feathers, colored like the canopy. Like a creature of the 
water, so lightly, so gracefully, the boat drew nigh the mes- 
sengers. "When alongside, lo’ sprang aboard, and, with boy- 
ish ardor, embraced his sisters. 

“ What has kept you so 1 ” 

‘‘We stayed to see twenty thousand warriors cross the 
causeway,” replied Henetzin. 

“ Where can they be going 1 ” 

“To Cholula.” 

The news excited the boy ; turning to speak to Hualpa, he 
was reminded of his duty. 

“ Here is a messenger from Guatamozin, — the lord Hualpa, 
who slew the tiger in the garden.” 


LOVE ON THE LAKE. 


211 


The heart of the young warrior heat violently ; he touched 
the floor of the canoe with his palm. 

And Tula spoke. “We have heard the minstrels sing the 
story. Arise, lord Hualpa.” 

“ The words of the noble Tula are pleasanter than any 
song. WiU she hear the message I bring ? ” 

She looked at lo’ and Nenetzin, and assented. 

“Guatamozin salutes the noble Tula. He hopes the 
blessings of the gods are about her. He bade me say, that 
four mornings ago the king visited him at his palace, but talked 
of nothing but the strangers; so that the contract with 
Iztlir, the Tezcucan, still holds good. Further, the king asked 
his counsel as to what should be done with the strangers. He 
advised war, whereupon the king became angry, and de- 
parfted, saying that a courier would come for the ’tzin when 
his presence was wanted in the city; so the banishment 
also holds good. And so, finally, there is no more hope from 
interviews with the king. All that remains is to leave the 
cause to time and the gods.” 

A moment her calm face was troubled ; but she recovered, 
and said, with simple dignity, — 

“ I thank you. Is the ’tzin well and patient ” 

“He is a warrior, noble Tula, and foemen are marching 
through the provinces, like welcome guests; he thinks of 
them, and curses the peace as a season fruitful of dishonor.” 

I^enetzin, who had been quietly listening, was aroused. 

“ Has he heard the news 1 Does he not know a battle is 
to be fought in Cholula ? ” 

“ Such tidings will be medicine to his spirit.” 

“A battle ! ” cried lo’. “ Tell me about it, Henetzin.” 

“ I, too, will listen,” said Hualpa ; “ for the gods have 
given me a love of words spoken with a voice sweeter than 
the flutes of Tezca’.” 

The girl laughed aloud, and was well pleased, although 
she answered, — 


212 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ My father gave me a bracelet this morning, but he did 
not carry his love so far as to tell me his purposes ; and I 
am not yet a warrior to talk to warriors about battles. The 
lord Maxtla, even Tula here, can better teU you of such 
things.” 

“ Of what ? ” asked Tula. 

“ lo’ and liis friend wish to know all about the war.” 

The elder princess mused a moment, and then said gravely, 
“You may tell the 'tzin, as from me, lord Hualpa, that 
twenty thousand warriors this morning marched for Cho- 
lula ; that the citizens there have been armed ; and to-morrow, 
the gods willing, Malinche will be attacked. The king at 
one time thought of conducting the expedition himself ; but, 
by persuasion of the paba, Mualox, he has given the com- 
mand to the lord Cuitlahua.” •» 

lo’ clapped his hands. “ The gods are kind ; let us re- 
joice, 0 Hualpa ! What marching of armies there will be ! 
What battles ! Hasten, and let us to Cholula ; we can be 
there before the night sets in.” 

“ What ! ” said Henetzin. “ Would you fight, lo’ 1 Ho, 
no ; come home with us, and I will put my parrot in a 
tree, and you may shoot at him all day.” 

The boy went to his own canoe, and, returning, held up a 
shield of pearl and gold. “ See ! With a bow I beat our 
father and the lord Hualpa, and this was the prize.” 

“That a shield!” Henetzin said. “A toy, — a mere 
brooch to a Tlascalan. I have a tortoise-shell that will 
serve you better.” 

The boy frowned, and a rejoinder was on his lips when 
Tula spoke. 

“ The flowers in your vases are very beautiful, lord Hualpa. 
What altar is to receive the tribute 1 ” 

Henetzin’s badinage had charmed the ambassador into for- 
getfulness of his embassy ; so he answered confusedly, “ The 


LOVE ON THE LAKE. 


213 


noble Tula reminds me of my duty. Before now, standing 
upon the hills of Tihuanco, watching the morning bright- 
ening in the east, I have forgotten myself. I pray par- 
don— ” 

Tula glanced archly at Nenetzin. The morning looks 
pleasant ; doubtlpss, its worshipper wiU be forgiven.” 

And then he knew the woman’s sharp eyes had seen into 
his inner heart, and that the audacious dream he there 
cherished was exposed ; yet his confusion gave place to de- 
light, for the discovery had been published with a smile. 
Thereupon, he set one of the vases at her feet, and touched 
the floor with his palm, and said, — 

“ I was charged by Guatamozin to salute you again, and 
say that these flowers would tell you all his hopes and 
wislies.” 

As she raised the gift, her hand trembled ; then he dis- 
covered how precious a simple Cholulan vase could become ; 
and with that his real task was before him. Taking the 
other vase, he knelt before Nenetzin. 

‘‘ I have but httle skill in courtierly ways,” he said. “ In 
flowers I see nothing but their beauty ; and what I would 
have these say is, that if Nenetzin, the beautiful iJ^’enetzin, 
will accept them, she will make me very happy.” 

The girl looked at Tula, then at him ; then she raised the 
vase, and, laughing, hid her face in the flowers. 

But little more was said ; and soon the lashings were 
cast off, and the vessels separated. 

On the return Hualpa stopped at Tenochtitlan, and in the 
shade of the portico, over a cup of the new beverage, now 
aU the fashion, received from Xoli the particulars of the 
contemplated attack upon the strangers in Cholula ; for, with 
his usual diligence in the fields of gossip, the broker had 
early informed himself of all that was to be heard of the 
affair. And that night, while lo’ dreamed of war, and 


214 


THE FAIR GOD. 


the hunter of love, the ’tzin paced his study or wandered 
through his gardens, feverishly solicitous about the result 
of the expedition. 

“ If it fail,” he repeated over and over, — ‘‘if it fail, 
Malinche wiU enter Tenochtitlan as a god ! ” 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE KING DEMANDS A SIGN OF MUALOX. 

N ext morning Mualox ascended the tower of his old 
Ch. The hour was so early that the stars were still 
shining in the east. He fed the fire in the great urn until 
it hurst into cheery flame ; then, spreading his mantle on 
the roof, he laid down to woo back the slumber from which 
he had been taken. By and by, a man, armed with a jave- 
lin, and clad in cotton mail, came up the steps, and spoke to 
the paha. 

“ Does the servant of his god sleep this morning 1 ” 
Mualox arose, and kissed the pavement. 

“ Montezuma is welcome. The blessing of the gods upon 
him ! ” 

“ Of all the gods, Mualox ? ” 

“ Of aU, — even Quetzal’s, 0 king ! ” 

“ Arise ! Last night I hade you wait me here. I said I 
would come with the morning star ; yonder it is, and I am 
faithful. The time is fittest for my business.” 

Mualox arose, and stood before the monarch with bowed 
head and crossed hands. 

“ Montezuma knows his servant.” 

“ Yet I seek to know him better. Mualox, Mualox, have 
you room for a perfect love aside from Quetzal’ 1 What would 
you do for me ? ” 


THE KING DEMANDS A SIGN OF MUALOX. 215 


‘‘ Ask me rather what I would not do.” 

“ Hear me, then. Lately you have been a counsellor in 
my palace ; with my policy and purposes you are acquainted ; 
you knew of the march to Cholula, and the order to at- 
tack the strangers ; you were present when they were re- 
solved — ” 

“ And opposed them. Witness for me to Quetzal’, 0 king ! ” 

“Yes, you prophesied evil and failure from them, and 
for that I seek you now. Tell me, 0 Mualox, spake you 
then as a prophet 1 ” 

The paha ventured to look up and study the face of the 
questioner as well as he could in the flickering light. 

“ I know the vulgar have called me a magician,” he said, 
slowly ; “ and sometimes they have spoken of my commerce 
with the stars. To say that either report is true, were 
wrong to the gods. Eegardful of them, I cannot answer 
you ; hut I can say — and its sufficiency depends on your 
wisdom — your slave, O king, is warned of your intention. 
You come asking a sign ; you would have me prove my 
power, that it may he seen.” 

“ By the Sun — ” 

“ Hay, — if my master will permit, — another word.” 

“ I came to hear you ; say on.” 

“You spoke of me as a councillor in the palace. How 
may we measure the value of honors ? By the intent with 
which they are given 1 0 king, had you not thought the 

poor paba would use his power for the betrayal of his god ; 
had you not thought he could stand between you and the 
wrath — ” 

“ Ho more, Mualox, no more ! ” said Montezuma. “ I con- 
fess I asked you to the palace that you might befriend me. 
Was I wrong to count on your loyalty ? Are you not of 
Anahuac % And further ; I confess I come now seeking sk 
sign. I command you to show me the future ! ” 


216 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ If you do indeed believe me the beloved of Quetzal’ and 
his prophet, then are you bold, — even for a king.” 

“ Until I wrong the gods, why should I fear 1 I, too, am 
a priest.” 

“ Be wise, 0 my master ! Let the future alone ; it is 
sown with sorrows to all you love.” 

“ Have done, paba ! ” the king exclaimed, angrily. “ I am 
weary, — by the Sun ! I am weary of such words.” 

The holy man bowed reverently, and touched the floor 
with liis palm, saying, — 

“ Mualox lays his heart at his master’s feet. In the time 
when his beard was black and his spirit young, he began 
the singing of two songs, — one of worship to Quetzal’, the 
other of love for Montezuma.” 

These words he said tremulously ; and there was that in 
the manner, in the bent form, in the low obeisance, which 
soothed the impatience of the king, so that he turned away, 
and looked out over the city. And day began to gild the 
east ; in a short time the sun would claim his own. Still the 
monarch thought, still Mualox stood humbly waiting his 
pleasure. At length the former approached the fire. 

“ Mualox,” he said, speaking slowly, “ I crossed the lake 
the other day, and talked with Guatamozin about the 
strangers. He satisfied me they are not teuleSf and, more, he 
urged me to attack them in Cholula.” 

“ The ’tzin ! ” exclaimed Mualox, in strong surprise. 

Montezuma knew the love of the paba for the young 
cacique rested upon his supposed love of Quetzal’ ; so he 
continued, — 

“ The attack was planned by him ; only he would have 
sent a hundred thousand warriors to help the citizens. The 
order is out ; the companies are there ; blood will run in the 
streets of the holy city to-day. The battle waits on the sun, 
and it is nearly up. Mualox,” — his manner became solemn, 


THE KING DEMANDS A SIGN OF MUALOX. 217 


— “ JMualox, on this day’s work bides my peace. The morn- 
ing comes : by all your prophet’s power, tell me what the 
night will bring ! ” 

Sorely was the paba troubled. The king’s faith in his 
qualities as prophet he saw was absolute, and that it was too 
late to deny the character. 

“ Does Montezuma believe the Sun would tell me what it 
withholds from its child 1 ” 

“ Quetzal’, not the Sun, will speak to you.” 

“ But Quetzal’ is your enemy.” 

Montezuma laid his hand on the paba’s. “ I have heard 
you speak of love for me ; prove it now, and your reward 
shall be princely. I will give you a palace, and many slaves, 
and riches beyond count.” 

Mualox bent his head, and was silent. Enjoyment of a 
palace meant abandonment of the old Cu and sacred ser- 
vice. Just then the wail of a watcher from a distant temple 
swept faintly by ; he heard the cry, and from his surplice 
drew a trumpet, and through it sung with a swelling 
voice, — 

“ Morning is come ! Morning is come ! To the temples, 
0 worshippers ! Morning is come ! ” 

And the warning hymn, the same that had been heard 
from the old tower for so many ages, heard heralding suns 
while the city was founding, given now, amid the singer’s 
sore perplexity, was an assurance to his listening deity that 
he was faithful against kingly blandishments as well as 
kingly neglect. While the words were being repeated from 
the many temples, he stood attentive to them, then he turned, 
and said, — 

“ Montezuma is generous to his slave ; but ambition is a 
goodly tree gone to dust in my heart ; and if it were not, 0 
king, what are all your treasures to that in the golden cham- 
ber 1 Nay, keep your offerings, and let me keep the temple. 

10 


218 


THE FAIR GOD. 


I hunger after no riches except such as lie in the love of 
Quetzal’.” 

Then tell me,” said the monarch, impatiently, — with- 
out price, tell me his will.” 

I cannot, I am hut a man ; hut this much I can — ” He 
faltered ; the hands crossed upon his hreast closed tightly, 
and the hreast labored painfully. 

“ I am waiting. Speak ! What can you ‘1 ” 

“ Will the king trust his servant, and go with him down 
into the Ch again 1 ” 

‘^To talk with the Morning, this is the place/’ said the 
monarch, too well remembering the former introduction to 
the mysteries of the ancient house. 

“ My master mistakes me for a juggling soothsayer ; he 
thinks I will look into the halls of the Sun through burning 
drugs, and the magic of unmeaning words. I have nothing 
to do with the Morning ; I have no incantations. I am hut 
the dutiful slave of Quetzal’, the god, and Montezuma, the 
king.” 

The royal listener looked away again, debating with his 
fears, which, it is hut just to say, were not of harm from 
the paha. Men unfamiliar with the custom do not think 
lightly of encountering things unnatural ; in this instance, 
moreover, favor was not to be hoped from the god through 
whom the forbidden knowledge was to come. But curiosity 
and an uncontrollable interest in the result of the affair in 
Cholula overcame his apprehensions. 

I will go with you. I am ready,” he said. 

The old man stooped, and touched the roof, and, rising, 
said, I have a little world of my own, 0 king ; and though 
without sun and stars, and the grand harmony which only 
the gods can give, it has its wonders and beauty, and is to 
me a place of perpetual delight. Bide my return a little 
while. I will go and prepare the way for you.” 


THE KING DEMANDS A SIGN OF MUALOX. 219 


Eesuming his mantle, he departed, leaving the king to 
study the new-born day. When he came hack, the valley 
and the sky were full of the glory of the sun full risen. 
And they descended to the azoteas, thence to the court- 
yard. Taking a lamp hanging in a passage-door, the holy 
man, with the utmost reverence, conducted his guest into 
the labyrinth. At first, the latter tried to recollect the 
course taken, the halls and stairs passed, and the stories 
descended ; hut the thread was too often broken, the light 
too dina, the way too intricate. Soon he yielded himself 
entirely to his guide, and followed, wondering much at the 
massiveness of the building, and the courage necessary to 
live there alone. Ignorant of the zeal which had become 
the motive of the paba’s life, inspiring him with incredible 
cunning and industry, and equally without a conception of 
the power there is in one idea long awake in the soul and 
nursed into mania, it was not singular that, as they went, 
the monarch should turn the very walls into witnesses cor- 
roborant of the traditions of the temple and the weird 
claims of its keeper. 

Passing the kitchen, and descending the last flight of steps, 
they came to the trap-door in. the passage, beside which lay 
the ladder of ropes. 

‘‘Be of courage a little longer, 0 king, ” said Mualox, 
flinging the ladder through the doorway. “We are almoet 
there.” 

And the paba, leaving the lamp above, committed him- 
self confidently to the ropes and darkness below. A sus- 
picion of his madness occurred to the king, whose situa- 
tion called for consideration ; in fact, he hesitated to 
follow farther ; twice he was called to ; and when, finally, 
he did go down, the secret of his courage was an idea that 
they were about to emerge from the dusty caverns into 
the freer air of day ; for, while yet in the passage, he 


220 


THE FAIR GOD. 


heard the whistle of a bird, and fancied he detected a fra- 
grance as of flowers. 

‘‘ Your hand now, 0 king, and Mualox will lead you into 
his world.” 

The motives that constrained the holy man to this step are 
not easily divined. Of all the mysteries of the house, that 
hall was by him the most cherished ; and of all men the king 
was the last whom he would have voluntarily chosen as a 
participant in its secrets, since he alone had power to break 
them up. The necessity must have been very gre^ ; pos- 
sibly he felt his influence and peculiar character dependent 
upon yielding to the pressure ; the moment the step was 
resolved upon, however, nothing remained hut to use the 
mysteries for the protection of the abode ; and with that 
purpose he went to prepare the way. 

Much study would most of us have required to know 
what was essential to the purpose; not so the paba. He 
merely trimmed the lamps already lighted, and lighted and 
disposed others. His plan was to overwhelm the visitor by 
the first glance ; without warning, without time to study 
details, to flash upon him a crowd of impossibilities. In the 
mass, the generahty, the whole together, a god’s hand was 
to be made apparent to a superstitious fancy. 

CHAPTER V. 

THE MASSACRE IN CHOLULA. 

I HSIDE the haU, scarcely a step from the curtain, the 
monarch stopped bewildered ; half amazed, half alarmed, 
he surveyed the chamber, now glowing as with day. Elowers 
blooming, birds singing, shrubbery, thick and green as in 


THE MASSACEE IN CHOLULA. 


221 


his own garden. Whence came they h how were they nur- 
tured down so far ? And the countless subjects painted on 
the ceiling and walls, and woven in colors on the tapestry, — 
surely they were the work of the same master who had 
wrought so marvellously in the golden chamber. The extent 
of the hall, exaggerated by the light, impressed him. Tilled 
with the presence of what seemed impossibilities^ he cried 
out, — 

“ The abode of Quetzal’ ! ” 

“ N'o,” answered Mualox, “ not his abode, only his tem- 
ple, — the temple of his own building.” 

And from that time it was with the king as if the god 
were actually present. 

The paba read the effect in the monarch’s manner, — in 
his attitude, in the softness of his tread, in the cloudy, 
saddened expression of his countenance, in the whisper with 
which he spoke ; he read it, and was assured. 

This way, 0 king ! Though your servant cannot let 
you see into the Sun, or give you the sign required, follow 
him, and he will bring you to hear of events in Cholula even 
as they transpire. Eemember, however, he says now that 
the Cholulans and the twenty thousand warriors will fail, 
and the night bring you but sorrow and repentance.” 

Along the aisles he conducted him, until they came to the 
fountain, where the monarch stopped again. The Hght there 
was brighter than in the rest of the hall. A number of 
birds flew up, scared by the stranger j in the space around 
the marble basin stood vases crowned with flowers ; the floor 
was strewn with wreaths and garlands ; the water sparkled 
with silvery lustre ; yet all were lost on the wondering guest, 
who saw only Tecetl, — a vision, once seen, to be looked at 
again and again. 

Upon a couch, a little apart from the fountain, she sat, 
leaning against a pile of cushions, which was covered by a 


222 


THE FAIR GOD. 


mantle of plumaje. Her garments were white, and wholly 
without ornament ; her hair strayed lightly from a wreath 
upon her head ; the childish hands lay clasped in her lap ; 
upon the soft mattress rested the delicate limbs, covered, but 
not concealed, the soles of the small feet tinted with warmth 
and life, like the pink and rose lining of certain shells. So 
fragile, innocent, and beautiful looked she, and so hushed 
and motionless withal, — so like a spirituality, — that the 
monarch’s quick sensation of sympathy shot through his 
heart an absolute pain. 

Disturb her not ; let her sleep,” he whispered, waving 
his hand. 

Mualox smiled. 

“Hay, the full battle-cry of your armies would not waken 
her.” 

The influence of the Will was upon her, stronger than 
slumber. Hot yet was she to see a human being other than 
the paba, — not even the great king. A little longer was she 
to be happy in ignorance of the actual world. Ah, many, 
many are the victims of affection unwise in its very fulness ! 

Again and again the monarch scanned the girl’s face, 
charmed, yet awed. The paba had said the sleep was wake- 
less ; and that was a mystery unreported by tradition, un- 
known to his philosophy, and rarer, if not greater, than 
death. If life at all, what kind was it] The longer he 
looked and reflected, the lovelier she grew. So completely 
was his credulity gained that he thought not once of 
questioning Mualox about her; he was content with be- 
lieving. 

The paba, meantime, had been holding one of her hands, 
and gazing intently in her face. When he looked up, the 
monarch was startled by his appearance ; his air was impos- 
ing, his eyes lighted with the mesmeric force. 

“Sit, 0 king, and give ear. Through the lips of hig 


THE MASSACRE IN CHOLULA. 


223 


child, Quetzal’ will speak, and tell you of the day in Cho- 
lula.” 

He spoke imperiously, and the monarch obeyed. Then, 
disturbed only by the chiming of the fountain, and some- 
times by the whistling of the birds, Tecetl began, and softly, 
brokenly, unconsciously told of the massacre in the holy city 
of Cholula. Not a question was asked her. There was little 
prompting aloud. Much did the king marvel, never once 
doubted he. 

“ The sky is very clear,” said Tecetl. “ I rise into the 
air ; I leave the city in the lake, and the lake itself ; now the 
mountains are below me. Lo, another city ! I descend 
again ; the azoteas of a temple receives me ; around are great 
houses. Who are these I see 1 There, in front of the tem- 
ple, they stand, in lines ; even in the shade their garments 
glisten. They have shields ; some bear long lances, some sit 
on strange animals that have eyes of fire and ring the pave- 
ment with their stamping.” 

Does the king understand ? ” asked Mualox. 

“ She describes the strangers,” was the reply. 

And Tecetl resumed. “ There is one standing in the midst 
of a throng; he speaks, they listen. I cannot repeat his 
words, or understand them, for they are not like ours. Now 
I see his face, and it is white ; his eyes are black, and his 
cheeks bearded ; he is angry ; he points to the city around the 
temple, and liis voice grows harsh, and his face dark.” 

The king approached a step, and whispered, Malinche ! ” 

But Mualox replied with flashing eyes, “The servant 
knows his god ; it is Quetzal’ ! ” 

“ He speaks, I listen,” Tecetl continued, after a rest, and 
thenceforth her sentences were given at longer intervals. 
“ Now he is through ; he waves his hand, and the listeners 
retire, and go to different quarters; in places they kindle 
fires ; the gates are open, and some station themselves there.” 


224 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ I^'amed she where this is happening ? ” asked Montezuma. 

“ She describes the strangers ; and are they not in Cholula, 
0 king ] She also spoke of the azoteas of a temple — ” 

True, true,” replied the king, moodily. “ The prepara- 
tions must be going on in the square of the temple in which 
Malinche was lodged last night.” 

Tecetl continued. And now I look down the street ; a 
crowd approaches from the city — ” 

Speak of them,” said Mualox. “ I would know who they 
are.” 

‘‘ Most of them wear long beards and robes, like yours, 
father, — robes white and reaching to their feet ; in front a 
few come, swinging censers — ” 

They are pabas from the temples,” said Mualox. 

“ Behind them I see a greater crowd,” she continued. 
“ How stately their step ! how beautiful their plumes ! ” 

The twenty thousand ! the army ! ” said Mualox. 

^‘Ho, she speaks of them as plumed. They must be lords 
and caciques going to the temple.” While speaking, the 
monarch’s eyes wandered restlessly, and he sighed, saying, 
“ Where can the companies be ? It is time they were in the 
city.” 

So his anxiety betrayed itself. 

Then Mualox said, grimly, “Hope not, 0 king. The 
priests and caciques go to death ; the army would but swell 
the flow of blood.” 

Montezuma clapped his hands, and drooped his head. 

“ Yet more,” said Tecetl, almost immediately ; “ another 
crowd comes on, a band reaching far down the street ; they 
are naked, and come without order, bringing — ” 

“The tamanes^' said Mualox, without looking from her face. 

“ And now,” she said, “ the city begins to stir. I look, 
and on the house-tops and temples hosts collect ; from all 
the towers the smoke goes up in bluer columns : yet all is 


THE MASSACRE IN CHOLULA. 


225 


still. Those who carry the censers come near the gate below 
me ; now they are within it ; the plumed train follows them, 
and the square begins to fill. Back by the great door, on one 
of the animals, the god — ” 

Quetzal’,” muttered Mualox. 

“ A company, glistening, surrounds him ; his face seems 
whiter than before, his eyes darker ; a shield is on his arm, 
white plumes toss above his head. The censer-bearers cross 
the square, and the air thickens with a sweet perfume. Now 
he speaks to them ; his voice is harsh and high ; they are 
frightened ; some kneel, and begin to pray as to a god ; 
others turn and start quickly for the gate.” 

“ Take heed, take heed, 0 king ! ” said Mualox, his eyes 
aflame. 

And Montezuma answered, trembling with fear and rage, 
‘‘ Has Anahuac no gods to care for her children ? ” 

“ What can they against the Supreme Quetzal’ 1 It is a 
trial of power. The end is at hand ! ” 

Never man spoke more confidently than the paba. 

By this time Tecetl’s face was flushed, and her voice faint. 
Mualox filled the hollow of his hand with water, and laved 
her forehead. And she sighed wearily and continued, — 

“ The fair-faced god — ” 

“ Mark the words, 0 king, — mark the words ! ” said the 
paba. 

The fair-faced god quits speaking ; he waves his hand, 
and one of his company on the steps of the temple answers 
with a shout. Lo ! a stream of fire, and a noise like the burst- 
ing of a cloud! a rising, rolling cloud of smoke veils the 
whole front of the house. How the smoke thickens ! How 
the strangers rush into the square t The square itself trem- 
bles 1 I do not understand it, father — '’ 

“ It is battle 1 On, child ! a king waits to see a god in 
battle.” 


10 * 


o 


226 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ In my pictures there is nothing like this, nor have you 
told me of anything like it. 0, it is fearful ! ” she said. 
“ The crowd in the middle of the square, those who came 
from the city, are broken, and rush here and there j at the 
gates they are beaten back ; some, climbing the walls, are 
struck by arrows, and faU down screaming. Hark ! how they 
call on the gods, — Huitzil, Tezca’, Quetzal. And why 
are they not heard 1 Where, father, where is the good Quet- 
zal’ 

Flashed the paba’s eyes with the superhuman light, — 
other answer he deigned not ; and she proceeded. 

‘‘ What a change has come over the square ! Where are 
they that awhile ago filled it with white robes and dancing 
plumes ? ” 

She shuddered visibly. 

I look again. The pavement is covered with heaps of 
the fallen, and among them I see some with plumes and 
some with robes ; even the censer-bearers lie still. What can 
it mean ? And all the time the horror grows. When the 
thunder and fire and smoke burst from near the temple- 
steps, how the helpless in the square shriek with terror 
and run blindly about ! How many are torn to pieces ! 
Down they go ; I cannot count them, they fall so fast, and in 
such heaps ! Then — ah, the pavement looks red! 0 father, 
it is blood ! ” 

She stopped. Montezuma covered his face with his 
hands ; the good heart that so loved his people sickened 
at their slaughter. 

Again Mualox bathed her face. Joy flamed in his eyes ; 
Quetzal’ was consummating his vengeance, and confirming 
the prophecies of his servant. 

“ Go on j stay not ! ” he said, sternly. “ The story is not 
told.” 

‘‘ Still the running to and fro, and the screaming ; still 


THE MASSACRE IN CHOLULA. 


227 


the fire flashing, and the smoke rising, and the hissing of 
arrows and sound of blows ; still the prayers to Huitzil’ ! ” 
said Tecetl. I look down, and under the smoke, which 
has a choking smell, I see the fallen. Eed pools gather in 
the hollow places, plumes are broken, and robes are no longer 
white. 0, the piteous looks I see, the moans I hear, the 
many faces, brown like oak-leaves faded, turned stilly up to 
the sun ! ” 

The people of the god, — tell of them,” said Mualox. 

“ I search for them, — I see them on the steps and out 
by the walls and the gates. They are all in their places yet ; 
not one of them is down ; theirs the arrows, and the fire and 
thunder.” 

“ Does the king hear 1 ” asked Mualox. Only the pabas 
and caciques perish. Who may presume to oppose Quetzal’ 1 
Look further, child. Tell us of the city.” 

Gladly, most gladly ! Now, abroad over the city. The 
people quit the house-tops; they run from all directions 
to the troubled temple ; they crowd the streets ; about 
the gates, where the gods are, they struggle to get into 
the square, and the air thickens with their arrows. The 
god-” 

What god ? ” asked Mualox. 

“ The white-plumed one.” 

“ Quetzal’ ! Go on ! ” 

“ He has — ” She faltered. 

“Whatl” 

“ In my pictures, father, there is nothing like them. Fire 
leaps from their mouths, and smoke, and the air and earth 
tremble when they speak ; and see — ah, how the crowds in 
the streets go down before them ! ” 

Again she shuddered, and faltered. 

“ Hear, 0 king ! ” said Mualox, who not only recognized 
the cannon of the Spaniards in the description, but saw 


228 


THE FAIR GOD. 


their weight at that moment as an argument. “ What can 
the slingers, and the spearmen of Chinantla, and the swords- 
men of Tenochtitlan, against warriors of the Sun, with their 
lightning and thunder ! ” 

And he looked at the monarch, sitting with his face 
covered, and was satisfied. With faculties sharpened by a 
zeal too fervid for sympathy, he saw the fears of the proud 
but kindly soul, and rejoiced in them. Yet he permitted 
no delay. 

“ Go on, child ! Look for the fair-faced god ; he holds 
the battle in his hand.” 

“ I see him, — I see his white plumes nodding in a group 
of spears. Now he is at the main gate of the temple, and 
speaks. Hark ! The earth is shaken by another roar, — ■ 
from the street another great cry ; and through the smoke, 
out of the gate, he leads his band. And the animals, — 
what shall I call them 1 ” 

“ Tell us of the god ! ” replied the enthusiast, himself 
ignorant of the name and nature of the horse. 

“ Well, well, — they run like deer ; on them the god and 
his comrades plunge into the masses in the street ; beating 
back and pursuing, striking with their spears, and trampling 
down all in their way. Stones and arrows are flung from 
the houses, but they avail nothing. The god shouts joy- 
ously, he plunges on ; and the blood flows faster than 
before ; it reddens the shields, it drips from the spear- 
points — ” 

“ Enough, Mualox ! ” said Montezuma, starting from his 
seat, and speaking firmly. “ I want no more. Guide me 
hence ! ” 

The paba was surprised ; rising slowly, he asked, — 

“ Will not the king stay to the end h ” 

“ Stay ! ” repeated the monarch, with cmling lip. ** Are 
my people of Cholula wolves that I should be glad at their 


THE MASSACRE IN CHOLULA. 


229 


slaughter f It is murder, massacre, not battle ! Show me 
to the roof again. Come ! ” 

Mualox turned to Tecetl ; touching her hand, he found 
it cold ; the sunken eyes, and the lips, vermeil no longer, 
admonished him of the delicacy of her spirit and body. 
He filled a vase at the fountain, and laved her face, the 
while soothingly repeating, “ Tecetl, Tecetl, child ! ” Some 
minutes were thus devoted ; then kissing her, and replacing 
the hand tenderly in the other lying in her lap, he said to 
the monarch, — 

“Until to-day, 0 king, this sacredness has been sealed 
from the generations that forsook the religion of Quetzal’. 
Eye of mocker has not seen, nor foot of unbeliever trod 
this purlieu, the last to receive his blessing. You alone — 
I am of the god — you alone can go abroad knowing what 
is here. Never before were you so nearly face to face with 
the Euler of the Winds ! And now, with what force a ser- 
vant may, I charge you, by the glory of the Sun, respect 
this house ; and when you think of it, or of what here you 
have seen, be it as friend, lover, and worshipper. If the 
king will follow me, I am ready.” 

“ I am neither mocker nor unbeliever. Lead on,” replied 
Montezuma. 

And after that, the king paid no attention to the chamber ; 
he moved along the aisles too unhappy to be curious. The 
twenty thousand warriors had not been mentioned by Tecetl ; 
they had not, it would seem, entered the city or the battle, 
so there was a chance of the victory ; yet was he hopeless, 
for never a doubt had he of her story. Wherefore, his lamen- 
tation was twofold, — for his people and for himself. 

And Mualox was silent as the king, though for a different 
cause. To him, suddenly, the object of his life put on the 
garb of quick possibility. Quetzal’, he was sure, would fill 
the streets of Cholula with the dead, and crown his wrath 


230 


THE FAIR GOD. 


amid the ruins of the city. In the face of example so 
dreadful, none would dare oppose him, not even Montezuma, 
whose pride broken was next to his faith gained. And 
around the new-born hope, as cherubs around the Madonna, 
rustled the wings of fancies most exalted. He saw the su- 
premacy of Quetzal’ acknowledged above all others, the 
Cu restored to its first glory, and the silent cells repeopled. 
0 happy day ! Already he heard the court-yard resounding 
with solemn chants as of old ; and before the altar, in the 
presence-chamber, from morn till night he stood, receiving 
offerings, and dispensing blessings to the worshippers who, 
with a faith equal to his own, believed the ancient image the 
One Supreme God. 

At the head of the eastern steps of the temple, as the 
king began the descent, the holy man knelt, and said, — 

“For peace to his people let the wise Montezuma look to 
Quetzal’. Mualox gives him his blessing. Farewell.” 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE CONQUEROR WILL COME. 

A FEW weeks more, — weeks of pain, vacillation, em- 
bassies, and distracted councils to Montezuma ; of 
doubt and anxiety to the nobles; of sacrifice and cere- 
monies by the priests ; of fear and wonder to the people. 
In that time, if never before, the Spaniards became the one 
subject of discourse throughout Anahuac. In the tianguez, 
merchants bargaining paused to interchange opinions about 
them; craftsmen in the shops entertained and frightened 
each other with stories of their marvellous strength and 
ferocity ; porters, bending under burdens, speculated ou 


THE CONQUEROR WILL COME. 


231 


their character and mission ; and never a waterman passed 
an acquaintance on the lake, without lingering awhile to ask 
or give the latest news from the Holy City, which, with the 
best grace it could, still entertained its scourgers. 

'What Malinche — for by that name Cortes was now 
universally known — would do was the first conjecture; 
what the great king intended was the next. 

As a matter of policy, the dismal massacre in Cholula 
accomplished all Cortes proposed ; it made him a national 
terror ; it smoothed the causeway for his march, and held 
the gates of Xoloc open for peaceful entry into Tenoch- 
titlan. Yet the question on the many tongues was. Would 
he come 1 

And he himself answered. One day a courier ran up the 
great street of Tenochtitlan to the king’s palace; imme- 
diately the portal was thronged by anxious citizens. That 
morning Malinche began his march to the capital, — he was 
coming, was actually on the way. The thousands trem- 
bled as they heard the news. 

After that the city was not an hour without messengers 
reporting the progress of the Spaniards, whose every step 
and halt and camping-place was watched with the distrust of 
fear and the sleeplessness of jealousy. The horsemen and 
footmen were all numbered ; the personal appearance of each 
leader was painted over and over again with brush and 
tongue; the devices on the shields and pennons were de- 
scribed with heraldic accuracy. And though, from long 
service and constant exposure and repeated battles, the 
equipments of the adventurers had lost the freshness 
that belonged to them the day of the departure from 
Cuba; though plumes and scarfs were stained, and casques 
and breastplates tarnished, and good steeds tamed by strange 
fare and wearisome marches, nevertheless the accounts that 
went abroad concerning them were sufficiently splendid 


232 


THE FAIR GOD. 


and terrible to confirm the prophecies by which they were 
preceded. 

And the people, made swift by alarm and curiosity, out- 
marched Cortes many days. Before he reached Iztapalapan, 
the capital was full of them; in multitudes, lords and slaves, 
men, women, and children, like Jews to the Passover, scaled 
the mountains, and hurried through the valley and across 
the lakes. Better opportunity to study the characteristics of 
the tribes was never afforded. 

All day and night the public resorts — streets, houses, 
temples — were burdened with the multitude, whose fear, 
as the hour of entry drew nigh, yielded to their curiosity. 
And when, at last, the road the visitors would come by was 
settled, the whole city seemed to breathe easier. From the 
village of Iscalpan, so ran the word, they had boldly plunged 
into the passes of the Sierra, and thence taken the directest 
route by way of Tlalmanalco. And now they were at 
Ayotzinco, a town on the eastern shore of lake Tezcuco ; 
to-morrow they would reach Iztapalapan, and then Tenoch- 
titlan. Not a long time to wait, if they brought the ven- 
geance of Quetzal’ ; yet thousands took canoes, and crossed 
to the village, and, catching the first view, hurried back, each 
with a fancy more than ever inflamed. 

A soldier, sauntering down the street, is beset with citi- 
zens. 

“ A pleasant day, 0 son of Huitzil’ ! ” 

“ A pleasant day ; may all that shine on Tenochtitlan 
be like it ! ” he answers. 

“What news?” 

“ I have been to the temple.” 

“ And what says the teotuctli now ? ” 

“ Nothing. There are no signs. Like the stars, the hearts 
of the victims will not answer.” 

“ What I Did not Huitzil’ speak last night ? ” 


THE CONQUEROR WILL COME. 


233 


“ 0 yes I ” And the warrior smiles with satisfaction. 

Last night he bade the priests tell the king not to oppose 
the entry of Malinche.” 

“ Then what 1 ” 

“ Why, here in the city he would cut the strangers off to 
the last one.” 

And all the citizens cry in chorus, “ Praised be Huitzil’ ! ” 

Farther on the warrior overtakes a comrade in arms. 

“ Are we to take our shields to the field, 0 my brother ? ” 
he asks. 

“ All is peaceful yet, — nothing but embassies.” 

“ Is it true that the lord Cacama is to go in state, and in* 
vite Malinche to Tenochtitlan 1 ” 

“ He sets out to-day.” 

“ Ha, ha ! Of all voices for war, his was the loudest. 
Where caught he the merchant’s cry for peace ? ” 

“ In the temples ; it may be from Huitzil’.” 

The answer is given in a low voice, and with an ironic 
laugh. 

Well, well, comrade, there are but two lords fit, in time 
like this, for the love of warriors, — Cuitlahua and Guata- 
mozin. They still talk of war.” 

Cuitlahua, Cuitlahua ! ” And the laugh rises to boisterous 
contempt. “ Why, he has consented to receive Malinche in 
Iztapalapan, and entertain him with a banquet in his palace. 
He has gone for that purpose now. The lord of Cojohuaca 
is with him.” 

“ Then we have only the ’tzin ! ” 

The fellow sighs like one sincerely grieved. 

Only the ’tzin, brother, only the ’tzin ! and he is ban- 
ished ! ” 

They shake their heads, and look what they dare not 
speak, and go their ways. The gloom they take with them 
is a sample of that which rests over the whole valley. 


234 


THE FAIR GOD. 


When the Spaniards reached Iztapalapan, the excitement 
in the capital became irrepressible. The cities were but 
an easy march apart, most of it along the causeway. The 
going and coming may be imagined. The miles of dike 
were covered by a continuous procession, while the lake, in 
a broad line from town to town, was darkened by canoes. 
Cortes’ progress through the streets of Iztapalapan was 
antitypical of the grander reception awaiting him in Te- 
nochtitlan. 

In the latter city there was no sleep that night. The tian- 
guez in particular was densely filled, not by traders, but by 
a mass of newsmongers, who hardly knew whether they 
were most pleased or alarmed. The general neglect of busi- 
ness had exceptions ; at least one portico shone with un- 
usual brilliancy till morning. Every great merchant is a 
philosopher ; in the midst of calamities, he is seyene, because 
it is profit’s time ; before the famine, he buys up all the corn ; 
in forethought of pestilence, he secures aU the medicine : 
and the world, counting his gains, says delightedly. What a 
wise man ! I will not say the Chalcan was of that honored 
class ; he thought himself a benefactor, and was happy to 
accommodate the lords, and help them divide their time 
between his palace and that of the king. It is hardly neces- 
sary to add, that his apartments were well patronized, 
though, in truth, his pulque was in greater demand than 
his choclatl. 

The drinking-chamber, about the close of the third quar- 
ter of the night, presented a lively picture. For the con- 
venience of the many patrons, tables from other rooms had 
been brought in. Some of the older lords were far gone in 
intoxication ; slaves darted to and fro, removing goblets, or 
bringing them back replenished. A few minstrels found lis- 
teners among those who happened to be too stupid to talk, 
though not too sleepy to drink. Every little while a new- 


THE CONQUEROR WILL COME. 


235 


comer would enter, when, if he were from Iztapalapan, a 
crowd would surround him, allowing neither rest nor refresh- 
ment until he had told the things he had seen or heard. 
Amongst others, Hualpa and lo’ chanced to find their way 
thither. Maxtla, seated at a table with some friends, in- 
cluding the Chalcan, called them to him ; and, as they had 
attended the banquet of the lord Cuitlahua, they were 
quickly provided with seats, goblets, and an audience of 
eager listeners. 

Certainly, my good chief, I have seen Malinche, and 
passed the afternoon looking at him and his people,” said 
Hualpa to Maxtla. “ It may be that I am too much influ- 
enced by the ’tzin to judge them ; but, if they are teuleSy so 
are we. I longed to try my javelin on them.” 

“ Was their behavior unseemly 1 ” 

Call it as you please. I was in the train when, after the 
banquet, the lord Cuitlahua took them to see his gardens. 
As they strode the walks, and snuffed the flowers, and 
plucked the fruit ; as they moved along the canal with 
its lining of stone, and stopped to drink at the fountains, — 
I was made feel that they thought everything, not merely my 
lord’s property, but my lord himself, belonged to them ; they 
said as much by their looks and actions, by their insolent 
swagger.” 

“Was the ’tzin there 1 ” 

“ Prom the azoteas of a temple he saw them enter the city ; 
but he was not at the banquet. I heard a story showing 
how he would treat the strangers, if he had the power. One 
of their priests, out with a party, came to the temple where 
he happened to be, and went up to the tower. In the sanc- 
tuary one of them raised his spear and struck the image of the 
god. The pabas threw up their hands and shrieked; he 
rushed upon the impious wretch, and carried him to the sacri- 
ficial stone, stretched him out, and called to the pabas, 


236 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Come, the victim is ready I ” When the other teiiles 
would have attacked him, he offered to fight them all. The 
strange priest interfered, and they departed.’’ 

The applause of the bystanders was loud and protracted j 
when it had somewhat abated, Xoli, whose thoughts, from 
habit, ran chiefly upon the edibles, said, — 

“ My lord Cuitlahua is a giver of good suppers. Pray, 
tell us about the courses — ” 

“ Peace ! be still, Chalcan ! ” cried Maxtla, angrily. 
“ What care we whether Malinche ate wolf- meat or 
quail 1 ” 

Xoli bowed ; the lords laughed. 

Then a gray-haired cacique behind lo’ asked, “ Tell us 
rather what Malinche said.” 

Hualpa shook his head. The conversation was tedious. 
Everything was said through an interpreter, — a woman 
born in the province Painalla ; so I paid little attention. I 
recollect, however, he asked many questions about the great 
king, and about the Empire, and Tenochtitlan. He said his 
master, the governor of the universe, had sent him here. He 
gave much time, also, to explaining his religion. I might 
have understood him, uncle, but my ears were too full of the 
rattle of arms.” 

“ What ! Sat they at the table armed ? ” asked Maxtla. 

“ All of them ; even Malinche.” 

“ That was not the worst,” said lo’, earnestly. “ At the 
same table my lord Cuitlahua entertained a band of beg- 
garly Tlascalan chiefs. Sooner should my tongue have been 
torn out ! ” 

The bystanders made haste to approve the sentiment, and 
for a time it diverted the conversation. Meanwhile, at Hual- 
pa’s order, the goblets were refilled. 

“ Dares the noble Maxtla,” he then asked, “ tell what the 
king will do 1 ” 


THE CONQUEROR WILL COME. 


237 


“ The question is very broad.” And the chief smiled. 
“ What special information does my comrade seek ? ” 

“ Can you tell us when Malinche will enter Tenochtit- 
lan 1 ” 

“ Certainly. Xoli published that in the tiangucz before 
the sun was up.” 

“ To be sure,” answered the Chalcan. ‘‘ The lord Maxtla 
knows the news cost me a bowl of pulque'^ 

There was much laughter, in which the chief joined. Then 
he said, gravely, — 

The king has ari'anged everything. As ad'V’ised by the 
gods, Malinche enters Tenochtitlan day after to-morrow. He 
will leave Iztapalapan at sunrise, and march to the causeway 
by the lake shore. Cuitlahua, with Cacama, the lord of 
Tecuba, and others of like importance, will meet him at 
Xoloc. The king will follow them in state. As to the pro- 
cession, I will only say it were ill to lose the sight. Such 
splendor was never seen on the causeway.” 

Ordinarily the mention of such a prospect would have 
kindled the liveliest enthusiasm ; for the Aztecs were lovers 
of spectacles, and never so glad as when the great green ban- 
ner of the Empire was brought forth to shed its solemn 
beauty over the legions, and along the storied street of Te- 
nochtitlan. Much, therefore, was Maxtla surprised at the cold- 
ness that fell upon the company. 

“ Ho, friends ! One would think the reception not much 
to your liking,” he said. 

“ We are the king’s, — dust under his feet, — and it is not 
for us to murmur,” said a sturdy cacique, first to break the 
disagreeable silence. “Yet our fathers gave their enemies 
bolts instead of banquets.” 

“ Who may disobey the gods 1 ” asked Maxtla. 

The argument was not more sententious than unanswer- 
able. 


238 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ Well, well ! ” said Hualpa. “ I will get ready. Advise 
me, good chief : had I better take a canoe 1 ” 

“ The procession will doubtless be better seen from the 
lake ; but to hear what passes between the king and Ma- 
linche, you should be in the train. By the way, will the 
'tzin be present 1 ” 

“ As the king may order,” replied Hualpa. 

Maxtla threw back his look, and said with enthusiasm, 
real or affected, “ Much would I like to see and hear him 
when the Tlascalans come flying their banners into the city ! 
How he win flame with wrath ! ” 

Then Hualpa considerately changed the direction of the 
discourse. 

‘‘ Malinche will be a troublesome guest, if only from the 
number of his following. Will he be lodged in one of the 
temples ? ” 

“ A temple, indeed ! ” And Maxtla laughed scornfully. “A 
temple would be fitter lodging for the gods of Mictlan ! At 
Cempoalla, you recollect, the teules threw down the sacred 
gods, and butchered the pabas at the altars. Lest they 
should desecrate a holy house here, they are assigned to the 
old palace of Axaya’. To-morrow the tamanes will put it 
in order.” 

lo’ then asked, “ Is it known how long they will stay 1 ” 
Maxtla shrugged his shoulders, and drank his pulque, 
“Hist!” whistled a cacique. “That is what the king 
would give half his kingdom to know ! ” 

“And why?” asked the boy, reddening. “Is he not 
master ? Does it not depend upon him ? ” 

“ It depends upon no other 1 ” cried Maxtla, dashing his 
palm upon the table until the goblets danced. “ By the 
holy gods, he has but to speak the word, and these guests 
will turn to victims ! ” 

And Hualpa, surprised at the display of spirit, seconded 


MONTEZUMA GOES TO MEET CORTES. 


239 


the chief : “ Brave words, 0 my lord Maxtla ! They give 
us hopt.” 

“ He will treat them graciously,” Maxtla continued, ** be- 
cause they come by his request ; but when he tells them to 
depart, if they obey not, — if they obey not, — when was 
his vengeance other than a king’s 1 Who dares say he can- 
not, by a word, end this visit ? ” 

Ho one ! ” cried lo’. 

“ Ay, no one ! But the goblets are empty. See ! lo*, 
good prince,” — and Maxtla’s voice changed at once, — 
‘‘would another draught be too much for us? We drink 
slowly ; one more, only one. And while we drink, we will 
forget Malinche.” 

“ Would that were possible ! ” sighed the boy. 

They sent up the goblets, and continued the session until 
daylight. 

CHAPTER Vn. 

MONTEZUMA GOES TO MEET CORTES. 

C AME the eighth of Hovember, which no Spaniard, 
himself a Conquistador, can ever forget ; that day 
Cortes entered Tenochtitlan. 

The morning dawned over Anahuac as sometimes it dawns 
over the Bay of Haples, bringing an azure haze in which 
the world seemed set afloat. 

“ Look you, uncles,” said Montezuma, yet at breakfast, and 
speaking to his councillors : “ they are to go before me, 
my heralds ; and as Malinche is the servant of a king, and 
used to courtly styles, I would not have them shame me. 
Admit them with the nequen off. As they will appear before 
him, let them come to me.” 


240 


THE FAIR GOD. 


And thereupon four nobles were ushered in, full-armed, 
even to the shield. Their helms were of glittering' silver ; 
their escaupiles, or tunics of quilted mail, were stained vivid 
green, and at the neck and borders sparkled with pearls ; over 
their shoulders hung graceful mantles of plumaje^ softer than 
cramoisy velvet ; upon their breasts blazed decorations and 
military insignia ; from wrist to elbow, and from knee to 
sandal-strap, their arms and legs were sheathed in scales of 
gold. And so, ready for peaceful show or mortal combat, — 
his heroes and ambassadors, — they bided the monarch’s 
careful review. 

“ Health to you, my brothers ! and to you, my children ! ” 
he said, with satisfaction. “ What of the morning ? How 
looks the sun ? ” 

“ Like the beginning of a great day, 0 king, which we 
pray may end happily for you,” replied Cuitlahua. 

“ It is the work of Huitzil’ ; doubt not I I have called 
you, 0 my children, to see how well my fame will be main- 
tained. I wish to show Malinche a power and beauty such 
as he has never seen, unless he come from the Sun itself. 
Earth has but one vaUey of Anahuac, one city of Tenoch- 
titlan : so he shall acknowledge. Have you directed his 
march as I ordered ? ” 

And Cacama replied, ^‘Through the towns and gardens, 
he is to follow the shore of the lake to the great causeway. 
By this time he is on the road.” 

Then Montezuma’s face flushed ; and, lifting his head as it 
were to look at objects afar off, he said aloud, yet like one 
talking to himself, — 

“ He is a lover of gold, and has been heard speak of cities 
and temples and armies ; of his people numberless as the 
sands. 0, if he be a man, with human weaknesses, — if he 
has hope, or folly of thought, to make him less than a god, — 
ere the night fall he shall give me reverence. Sign of my 


MONTEZUMA GOES TO MEET CORTES. 


241 


power shall he find at every step : cities built upon the 
waves ; temples sohd and high as the hills ; the lake covered 
with canoes and gardens ; people at his feet, like stalks in 
the meadow ; my warriors ; and Tenochtitlan, city of empire ! 
And then, if he greet me with hope or thought of conquest, 
— then — ” He shuddered. 

‘‘And then what?” said Cuitlahua, upon whom not a 
word had been lost. 

The thinker, startled, looked at him coldly, saying, — 

“ I will take council of the gods.” 

And for a while he returned to his choclatl. When next 
he looked up, and spoke, his face was bright and smiling. 

“With a train, my children, you are to go in advance of 
me, and meet Malinche at Xoloc. Embrace him, speak to 
him honorably, return with him, and 1 will be at the first 
bridge outside the city. Cuitlahua and Cacama, be near 
when he steps forward to salute me. I will lean upon your 
shoulders. Get you gone now. Eemember Anahuac ! ” 

Shortly afterward a train of nobles, magnificently ar- 
rayed, issued from the palace, and marched down the great 
street leading to the Iztapalapan causeway. The house-tops, 
the porticos, even the roofs and towers of temples, and the 
pavements and cross-streets, were already occupied by spec- 
tators. At the head of the procession strode the four 
heralds. Silently they marched, in silence the populace re- 
ceived them. The spectacle reminded very old men of the 
day the great Axaya’ was borne in mournful pomp to Cha- 
pultepec. Once only there was a cheer, or, rather, a war-cry 
from the warriors looking down, from the terraces of a 
temple. So the cortege passed from the city ; so, through a 
continuous lane of men, they moved along the causeway ; so 
they reached the gates of Xoloc, at which the two dikes, 
one from Iztapalapan, the other from Cojohuaca, intersected 
each other. There they halted, waiting for Cortes. 

11 


p 


242 


THE FAIR GOD. 


And while the train was on the road, out of on® of the 
gates of the royal garden passed a palanquin, borne by four 
slaves in the king’s livery. The occupants were the prin- 
cesses Tula and Nenetzin, with Yeteve in attendance. In 
any of the towns of old Spain there would have been much 
remark upon the style of carriage, but no denial of their 
beauty, or that they were Spanish born. The elder sister 
was thoughtful and anxious ; the younger kept constant 
lookout ; the priestess, at their feet, wove the flowers with 
which they were profusely supplied into ramilletes, and 
thi’ew them to the passers-by. The slaves, when in the 
great street, turned to the north. 

Blessed Lady ! ” cried Yeteve. ‘‘ Was the like ever 
seen ? ” 

What is it 1 ” asked Nenetzin. 

Such a crowd of people ! ” 

Nenetzin looked out again, saying, I wish I could see a 
noble or a warrior.” 

“ That may not be,” said Tula. “ The nobles are gone 
to receive Malinche, the warriors are shut up in the tem- 
ples.” 

‘^Why so?” 

“ They may be needed.” 

Ah ! was it thought there is such danger % But look, 
see ! ” And Nenetzin drew back alarmed, yet laughing. 

There was a crash outside, and a loud shout, and the 
palanquin stopped. Tula drew the curtain quickly, not 
knowing but that the peril requiring the soldiery was at 
hand. A vendor of little stone images, — teotls^ or house- 
hold gods, — unable to get out of the way, had been run upon 
by the slaves, and the pavement sprinkled with the broken 
heads and legs of the luckless lares. Aside, surveying the 
wreck, stood the pedler, clad as usual with his class. In 
his girdle he carried a mallet, significant of his trade. He 


MONTEZUMA GOES TO MEET CORTES. 


243 


was uncommonly tall, and of a complexion darker than the 
lowest slaves. AVhile the commiserate princess observed 
him, he raised his eyes ; a moment he stood uncertain what 
to do ; then he stepped to the palanquin, and from the folds 
of his tunic drew an image elaborately carved upon the face 
of an agate. 

“ The good princess,” he said, bending so low as to hide 
his face, “ did not laugh at the misfortune of her poor 
slave. She has a friendly heart, and is loved by every 
artisan in Tenochtitlan. This carving is of a sacred god, 
w^ho will watch over and bless her, as I now do. If she 
will take it, I shall be glad.” 

“It is very valuable, and maybe you are not rich,” she 
replied. 

“ Rich ! When it is told that the princess Tula was 
pleased with a teotl of my carving, I shall have patrons with' 
out end. And if it were not so, the recollection will make 
me rich enough. Will she please me so much % ” 

She took from her finger a ring set with a jewel that, in 
any city of Europe, would have bought fifty such cameos, 
and handed it to him. 

“ Certainly ; but take this from me. I warrant you are a 
gentle artist.” 

The pedler took the gift, and kissed the pavement, and, 
after the palanquin was gone, picked up such of his wares 
as were uninjured, and went his way well pleased. 

At the gate of the temple of Huitzil’ the three alighted, 
and made their way to the azoteas. The lofty place was 
occupied by pabas and citizens, yet a sun-shade of gaudy 
feather-work was pitched for them close by the eastern 
verge, overlooking the palace of Axaya’, and commanding the 
street up which the array was to come. In the area below, 
encompassed by the Coatapantliy or Wall of Serpents, ten 
thousand warriors were closely ranked, ready to march at 


244 


THE FAIR GOD. 


beat of the great drum hanging in the tower. Thus, com- 
fortably situated, the daughters of the king awaited the 
strangers. 

When Montezuma started to meet his guests, the morning 
was far advanced. A vast audience, in front of his palace, 
waited to catch a view of his person. Of his policy the 
mass knew but the little gleaned from a thousand rumors, 
— enough to fill them with forebodings of evil. Was he 
going out as king or slave % At last he came, looking their 
ideal of a child of the Sun, and ready for the scrutiny. Stand- 
ing in the portal, he received their homage ; not one but 
kissed the ground before him. 

He stepped out, and the sun, as if acknowledging his 
presence, seemed to pour a double glory about him. In the 
time of despair and overthrow that came, alas ! too soon, 
those who saw him, in that moment of pride, spread his 
arms in general benediction, remembered his princeliness, 
and spoke of him ever after in the language of j^oetry. The 
tilmatlif looped at the throat, and falling gracefully from his 
shoulders, was beaded with jewels and precious stones ; the 
long, dark-green plumes in his ^panache drooped with pearls ; 
his sash was in keeping with the mantle ; the thongs of his 
sandals were edged with gold, and the soles Avere entirely of 
gold. Upon his breast, relieved against the rich embroidery 
of his tunic, symbols of the military orders of the realm 
literally blazed with gems. 

About the royal palanquin, in front of the portal, bare- 
headed and barefooted, stood its complement of bearers, lords 
of the first rank, proud of the service. Between the car- 
riage and the doorway a carpet of white cloth was stretched : 
common dust might not soil his feet. As he stepped out, 
he was saluted by a roar of attabals and conch-shells. The 
music warmed his blood ; the homage was agreeable to him, — ■ 
was to his soul what incense is to the gods. He gazed proud 


MONTEZUMA GOES TO MEET CORTES. 


245 


ly around, and it was easy to see how much he was in love 
witli his own royalty. 

Taking his place in the palanquin, the cortege moved 
slowly down the street. In advance walked stately caciques 
with wands, clearing the way. The carriers of the canopy, 
which was separate from the carriage, followed next; and 
behind them, reverently, and with downcast faces, marched 
an escort of armed lords indescribably splendid. 

The street traversed was the same Malinche was to trav- 
erse. Often and again did the subtle monarch look to paves 
and house-tops, and to the canals and temples. Well he 
knew the cunning guest would sweep them all, searching for 
evidences of his power ; that nothing would escape examina- 
tion ; tha4 the myriads of spectators, the extent of the city, 
its position in the lake, and thousands of things not to be 
written would find places in the calculation inevitable if the 
visit were with other than peaceful intent. 

At a palace near the edge of the city the escort halted to 
abide the coming. 

Soon, from the lake, a sound of music was heard, more 
plaintive than that of the conchs. 

They are coming, they are coming ! The teules are 
coming ! ” shouted the people ; and every heart, even the 
king’s, beat quicker. Up the street the cry passed, like 'i 
hurly gust of wind. 


246 


THE FAIR GOD. 


CHAPTEE Vm. 

THE ENTRY. 

I T is hardly worth while to eulogize the Christians who 
took part in Cortes’ crusade. History has assumed their 
commemoration. I may say, however, they were men who 
had acquired fitness for the task by service in almost every 
clime. Some had tilted with the Moor under the walls of 
Granada ; some had fought the Islamite on the blue Danube ; 
some had performed the first Atlantic voyage with Colum- 
bus ; all of them had hunted the Carib in the^lades of 
Hispaniola. It is not enough to describe them as fortune- 
hunters, credulous, imaginative, tireless ; neither is it enough 
to write them soldiers, hold, skilful, confident, cruel to ene- 
mies, gentle to each other. They were characters of the age 
in which they lived, unseen before, unseen since ; knights 
errant, who believed in hippogriflf and dragon, hut sought 
them only in lands of gold; missionaries, who compla- 
cently broke the body of the converted that Christ might 
the sooner receive his soul; palmers of pike and shield, 
who, in care of the Virgin, followed the morning round the 
world, assured that Heaven stooped lowest over the most 
profitable plantations. 

The wonders of the way from the coast to Iztapalapan had 
so beguiled the little host that they took hut partial account 
of its dangers. When, this morning, they stepped upon the 
causeway, and began the march out into the lake, a sense of 
insecurity fell upon them, like the shadow of a cloud ; hack 
to the land they looked, as to a friend from whom they might 
be parting forever; and as they proceeded, and the water 
spread around them, wider, deeper, and up-hearing denser 


THE ENTRY. 


247 


multitudes of people, the enterprise suddenly grew in pro- 
portions, and challenged their self-sufficiency ; yet, as I have 
heard them confess, they did not wake to a perfect compre- 
hension of their situation, and its dangers and difficulties, 
until they passed the gates of Xoloc : then Tenochtitlan 
shone upon them, — a city of enchantment ! And then each 
one felt that to advance was like marching in the face of death, 
at the same time each one saw there was no hope except in 
advance. Every hand grasped closer the weapon with which 
it was armed, while the ranks were intuitively closed. What 
most impressed them, they said. Was the silence of the peo- 
ple; a word, a shout, a curse, or a battle-cry would have 
been a relief from the fears and fancies that beset them ; as 
it was, t^ugh in the midst of myriad life, they heard only 
their own tramp, or the clang and rattle of their own arms. 
As if aware of the influence, and fearful of its effect upon 
his weaker followers, Cortes spoke to the musicians, and 
trumpet and clarion burst into a strain which, with beat of 
drum and clash of cymbal, was heard in the city. 

“ Ola, Sandoval, Alvarado ! Here, at my right and left ! ” 
cried Cortes. 

They spurred forward at the call. 

“ Out of the way, dog ! ” shouted Sandoval, thrusting a 
naked tamene over the edge of the dike with the butt of his 
lance. 

“ By my conscience, Senores,” Cortes said, “ I think true 
Christian in a land of unbelievers never beheld city like this. 
If it be wrong to the royal good knight, Eichard, of England, 
or that valorous captain, the Flemish Duke Godfrey, may 
the saints pardon me ; but I dare say the walled towns they 
took, and, for that matter, I care not if you number Antioch 
and the Holy City of the Sepulchre among them, were not 
to be put in comparison with this infidel stronghold.” 

And as they ride, listening to his comments, let me bring 
them particularly to view. 


248 


THE FAIR GOD. 


They were in full armor, except that Alvarado’s squire 
carried his helmet for him. In preparation for the entry, 
their skilful furbishers had well renewed the original lustre 
of helm, gorget, breastplate, glaive, greave, and shield. The 
plumes in their crests, like the scarfs across their breasts, had 
been carefully preserved for such ceremonies. At the saddle- 
bows hung heavy hammers, better known as battle-axes. 
Rested upon the iron shoe, and balanced in the right hand, 
each carried a lance, to which, as the occasion was peaceful, 
a silken pennon was attached. The horses, opportunely 
rested in Iztapalapan, and glistening in mail, trod the cause- 
way as if conscious of the terror they inspired. 

Cortes, between his favorite captains, rode with lifted visor, 
smiling and confident. His complexion was bloodless and 
ashy, a singularity the more noticeable on account o? his thin, 
black beard. The lower lip was seamed with a scar. He 
was of fine stature, broad-shouldered, and thin, but strong, 
active, and enduring. His skill in all manner of martial ex- 
ercises was extraordinary. He conversed in Latin, composed 
poetry, wrote unexceptionable prose, and, except when in 
passion, spoke gravely and with well-turned periods.* In 
argument he was both dogmatic and convincing, and espe- 
cially artful in addressing soldiers, of whom, by constitution, 
mind, wiU, and courage, he was a natural leader. How, 
gay and assured, he managed his steed with as little concern 
and talked carelessly as a knight returning victorious from 
some joyous passage of arms. 

Gonzalo de Sandoval, not twenty-three years of age, was 
better looking, having a larger frame and fuller face. His 
beard was auburn, and curled agreeably to the prevalent 
fashion. Hext to his knightly honor, he loved his beautiful 
chestnut horse, Motilla.t 

* Bemal Diaz, Hist, of the Conq. of Mexico. 

+ Ib. 


THE ENTRY. 


249 


Handsomest man of the party, however, was Don Pedro 
de Alvarado. Generous as a brother to a Christian, he hated 
a heathen with the fervor of a crusader. And now, in scorn 
of Aztecan treachery, he was riding unhelmed, his locks, 
long and yellow, flowing freely over his shoulders. His face 
was fair as a gentlewoman’s, and neither sun nor weather 
could alter it. Except in battle, his countenance expressed 
the friendliest disposition. He cultivated his beard assidm 
ously, training it to fall in ringlets upon his breast, — and 
there was reason for the weakness, if such it was ; yellow 
as gold, with the help of his fair face and clear blue eyes, it 
gave him a peculiar expression of sunniness, from which the 
Aztecs called him Tonitiah, child of the Sun."^ 

And ov^r what a following of cavaliers the leader looked 
when, turning in his saddle, he now and then glanced down 
the column, — Christobal de Oli, Juan Velasquez de Leon, 
Francisco de Montejo, Luis Marin, Andreas de Tapia, Alonzo 
de Avila, Francisco de Lugo, the Manjarezes, Andreas and 
Gregorio, Diego de Ordas, Francisco de Morla, Christobal de 
Olea, Gonzalo de Dominguez, Eodriques Magarino, Alonzo 
Hernandez Carrero, — most of them gentlemen of the class 
who knew the songs of Kodrigo, and the stories of Amadis 
and the Paladins ! 

And much shame would there be to me if I omitted men> 
tion of two others, — Bernal Diaz del Castillo, who, after 
the conquest, became its faithful historian, and Father Bar- 
tolome de 01medo,t sweet singer, good man, and devoted 
servant of God, the first to whisper the names of Christ and 
the Holy Mother in the ear of Hew Spain. In the column 
behind the cavaliers, with his assistant, Juan de las Varillas, 
he rode bareheaded, and clad simply in a black serge gown. 
The tinkle of the little silver beU, which the soldiers, in token 

* Bemal Diaz, Hist, of the Conq. of Mexica 

+ Ib. 


11 * 


250 


THE FAIR GOD. 


of love, had tied to the neck of his mule, sounded, amid the 
harsher notes of war, like a gentle reminder of shepherds and 
grazing flocks in peaceful pastures near Old World homes. 

After the holy men, in care of a chosen guard of honor, 
the flag of Spain was carried ; and then came the artillery, 
drawn hy slaves ; next, in close order, followed the cross- 
bowmen and arquebusiers, the latter with their matches 
lighted. Eearward still, in savage pomp and pride, strode 
the two thousand Tlascalans, first of their race to hear shield 
and fly banner along the causeway into Tenochtitlan. And 
so the Christians, in order of battle, hut scarcely four hundred 
strong, marched into a capital of full three hundred thousand 
inhabitants, swollen by the innumerable multitudes of the 
valley. 

As they drew nigh the city, the cavaliers became silent 
and thoughtful. With astonishment, which none of them 
sought to conceal, they gazed at the white walls and crowded 
houses, and, with sharpened visions, traced against the sky 
the outlines of temples and temple-towers, more numerous 
than those of papal Eome. Well they knew that the story 
of what they saw so magnificently before them would he re- 
ceived with incredulity in all the courts of Christendom. 
Indeed, some of the humbler soldiers marched convinced that 
all they beheld was a magical delusion. Not so Cortes. 

“ Eide on, gentlemen, ride on ! ” he said. “ There is a 
question I would ask of a good man behind us. I will rejoin 
you shortly.” 

From the artillerists he singled a soldier. 

‘‘ Martin Lopez ! Martin Lopez ! ” 

The man came to him. 

“ Martin, look out on this lake. Beareth it resemblance 
to the blue hays on the southern shore of old Spain ? As 
thou art a crafty sailor, comrade mine, look carefully.” 

Lopez raised his morion, and, leaning on his pike, glanced 
over the expanse. 


THE ENTRY. 


251 


“ Seilor, the water is fair enough, and, for that, looks like 
bayous I have seen without coming so far ; but I doubt if a 
two-decker could float on it long enough for Father Olmedo 
to say mass for our souls in peril.” 

“ Peril ! Plague take thee, man ! Before the hour of 
vespers, by the Blessed Lady, whose image thou wearest, this 
lake, yon city, its master, and all thou seest here, not except- 
ing the common spawn of idolatry at our feet, shall be the 
property of our sovereign lord. But, Martin Lopez, thou 
hast hauled sail and tacked ship in less room than this. 
What say’st thou to sailing a brigantine here?” 

The sailor’s spirit rose ; he looked over the lake again. 

“ It might be done, it might be done ! ” 

“ Then, by my conscience, it shall be ! Confess thyself 
an Admiral to-night.” 

And Cortes rode to the front. Conquest might not be, 
he saw, without vessels ; and true to his promise, it came to 
pass that Lopez sailed, not one, but a fleet of brigantines on 
the gentle waters. 

When the Christians were come to the first bridge outside 
the walls, their attention was suddenly drawn from the city. 
Down the street came Montezuma and his retinue. Curious 
as they were to see the arch-infidel, the soldiers kept their 
ranks ; but Cortes, taking with him the cavaliers, advanced 
to meet the monarch. When the palanquin stopped, the 
Spaniards dismounted. About the same time an Indian 
woman, of comely features, came forward. 

“ Stay thou here, Marina,” said Cortes. I will embrace 
the heathen, then call thee to speak to him.” 

“ Jesu ! ” cried Alvarado. “ There is gold enough on his 
litter to furnish a cathedral.” 

“ Take thou the gold, Senor ; I choose the jewels on his 
mantle,” said De Ordas. 

“ By my patron saint of excellent memory ! ” said Sando- 


252 


THE FAIR GOD. 


val, lisping his words, I think for noble cavaliers ye are 
easily content. Take the jewels and the gold ; but give 
me that train of stalwart dogs, and a plantation worthy of 
my degree here by Tezcuco.” 

So the captains talked. 

Meantime, the cotton cloth was stretched along the dike. 
Then on land and sea a hush prevailed. 

Montezuma came forward supported by the lords Cuitlahua 
and Cacama. Cortes met him half-way. When face to 
face, they paused, and looked at each other. Alas, for the 
Aztec then ! In the mailed stranger he beheld a visitant 
from the Sun, — a god ! The Spaniard saw, wrapped in the 
rich vestments, only a man, — a king, yet a heathen ! He 
opened his arms : Montezuma stirred not. Cuitlahua ut- 
tered a cry to Huitzil’, and caught one of the extended arms. 
Long did Cortes keep in mind the cacique’s look at that 
moment ; long did he remember the dark brown face, swollen 
with indignation and horror. Alvarado laid his hand on his 
sword. 

“ Peace, Don Pedro ! ” said Cortes. “ The knave knows 
nothing of respectable customs. Instead of taking to thy 
sword, bless the Virgin that a Christian knight hath been 
saved the sin of embracing an unbeliever. Call Marina.” 

The woman came, and stood by the Spaniard, and in a 
sweet voice interpreted the speeches. The monarch expressed 
delight at seeing his visitors, and welcomed them to Tenoch- 
titlan ; his manner and courteous words won even Alva- 
rado. Cortes answered, acknowledging surprise at the beauty 
and extent of the city, and in token of his gratification at 
being at last before a king so rich and powerful begged him 
to accept a present. Into the royal hand he then placed a 
string of precious stones, variously colored, and strongly per- 
fumed with musk. Thereupon the ceremony ended. Two of 
the princes were left to conduct the strangers to their quarters. 


THE ENTRY. 


253 


Resuming his palanquin, Montezuma himself led the proces- 
sion as far as his own palace. 

And Cortes swung himself into the saddle. “ Let the 
trumpets sound. Forward ! ” 

Again the music, — • again the advance ; then the pa- 
geant passed from the causeway and lake into the ex- 
pectant city. 

Theretofore, the Christians had been sdent from discipline, 
now they were silent from wonder. Even Cortes held his 
peace. They had seen the irregular towns of Tlascala, and 
the pretentious beauty of Cholula, and Iztapalapan, in whose 
streets the lake contended with the land for mastery, yet 
were they unprepared for Tenochtitlan. Here, it was plain, 
wealth and power and time and labor, under the presidency 
of genius, had wrought their perfect works, everywhere visi- 
ble : under foot, a sounding bridge, or a broad paved way, 
dustless, and unworn by wheel or hoof ; on the right and 
left, airy windows, figured portals, jutting balconies, embat- 
tled cornices, porticos with columns of sculptured marble, 
and here a palace, there a temple ; overhead pyramidal 
heights crowned with towers and smoking braziers, or lower 
roofs, from which, as from hanging gardens, floated waftures 
sweet as the perfumed airs of the Indian isles ; and every- 
where, looking up from the canals, down from the porticos, 
houses, and pyramids, and out of the doors and windows, 
crowding the pavement, clinging to the walls, — everywhere 
the People ! After ages of decay I know it has been other- 
wise ; but I also know that conquerors have generally found 
the builders of a great state able and willing to defend it. 

“ St. James absolve me, Senor ! but I like not the cold- 
ness of these dogs,” said Monjarez to Avila. 

Hor I,” was the reply. “ Seest thou the women on yon 
balcony '? I would give my» helmet full of ducats, if they 
would but once cry, Viva EspaM ! ” 


254 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ Nay, that would I if they would hut wave a scarf.” 

The progress of the pageant was necessarily slow ; but at 
last the spectators on the temple of Huitzil’ heard its music ; 
at last the daughters of the king beheld it in the street below 
them. 

“ Gods of my fathers ! ” thought Tula, awed and trembling, 
“ what manner of beings are these 'I ” 

And the cross-bowmen and arquebusiers, their weapons 
and glittering iron caps, the guns, and slaves that dragged 
them, even the flag of Spain, — objects of mighty interest 
to others, — drew from Nenetzin but a passing glance. 
Very beautiful to her, however, were the cavaliers, insomuch 
that she cared only for their gay pennons, their shields, 
their plumes nodding bravely above their helms, their armor 
of strange metal, on which the sun seemed to play with a 
fiery love, and their steeds, creatures tamed for the service 
of gods. Suddenly her eyes fixed, her heart stopped ; point- 
ing to where the good Captain Alvarado rode, scanning, 
with upturned face, the great pile, 0 Tula, Tula ! ” she 
cried. See ! There goes the blue-eyed warrior of my 
dream ! ” 

But it happened that Tula was, at the moment, too much 
occupied to hsten or look. The handsome vendor of images, 
standing near the royal party, had attracted the attention of 
Yeteve, the priestess. 

“ The noble Tula is unhappy. She is thinking of — ” 

A glance checked the name. 

Then Yeteve whispered, “ Look at the image-maker.” 

The prompting was not to be resisted. She looked, and 
recognized Guatamozin. Not that only ; through his low 
disguise, in his attitude, his eyes bright with angry fire, she 
discerned his spirit, its pride and heroism. Not for her was 
it to dispute the justice of his banishment. Love scorned 
the argument. There he stood, the man for the time ; strong- 


'THE ENTRY. 


255 


armed, stronger-hearted, prince by birth, king by nature, 
watching afar off a scene in which valor and genius entitled 
him to prominence. Then there were tears for him, and a 
love higher, if not purer, than ever. 

Suddenly he leaned over the verge, and shouted, “ Al-a- 
lala ! Al-a-lala ! ” and with such energy that he was heard in 
the street below. Tula looked down, and saw the cause of 
the excitement, — the Tlascalans were marching by ! Again 
his cry, the same with which he had so often led his coun- 
trymen to battle. No one took it up. The companies inside 
the sacred wall turned their faces, and stared at him in 
dull wonder. And he covered his eyes with his hands, while 
every thought was a fierce invective. Little he then knew 
how soon, and how splendidly, they were to purchase his 
forgiveness ! ^ 

When the Tlascalans were gone, he dropped his hands, 
and found the — mallet ! So it was the artisan, the image- 
maker, not the ’tzin, who had failed to wake the army 
to war ! He turned quickly, and took his way through 
the crowd, and disappeared ; and none but Tula and Yeteve 
ever knew that, from the teocallis^ Guatamozin had witnessed 
the entry of the teules. 

And so poor Nenetzin had been left to follow the warrior 
of her dream ; the shock and the pleasure were hers alone. 

The palace of Axaya’ faced the temple of Huitzil’ on the 
west. In one of the halls Montezuma received Cortes and 
the cavaliers j and all their lives they recollected his gentle- 
ness, courtesy, and unaffected royalty in that ceremony. 
Putting a golden collar around the neck of his chief guest, 
he said, “ This palace belongs to you, Malinche, and to your 
brethren. Rest after your fatigues ; you have much need to 
do so. In a little while I will come again.” 

And when he was gone, straightway the guest so honored 
proceeded to change the palace into a fort. Along the massive 


256 


THE FAIR GOD. 


walls that encircled it he stationed sentinels ; at every gate 
planted cannon ; and, like the eneray he was, he began, and 
from that time enforced, a discipline sterner than before. 

The rest of the day the citizens, from the top of the tem- 
ple, kept incessant watch upon the palace. When the shades 
of evening were collecting over the city, and the thousands, 
grouped along the streets, were whispering of the incidents 
they had seen, a thunderous report broke the solemn still- 
ness ; and they looked at each other, and trembled, and 
called the evening guns of Cortes ‘‘Voices of the Gods.” 


BOOK FIVE 


CHAPTER I. 

PUBLIC OPIXION. 

G UATAMOZIN, accompanied by Hualpa, left the city 
a little after nightfall. Impressed, doubtless, by the 
great event of the day, the two journeyed in silence, until 
so far out that the fires of the capital faded into a rosy tint 
low on the horizon. 

Then the Tzin said, “ I am tired, body and spirit ; yet 
must I go back to Tenochtitlan.” 

“ To-night % ” Hualpa asked. 

To-night ; and I need help.” 

“ What I can, 0 ’tzin, that will 1.” 

“ You are weary, also.” 

I could follow a wounded deer till dawn, if you so wished.” 
“ It is well.” 

After a while the 'tzin again spoke. 

“ To-day I have unlearned all the lessons of my youth. 
The faith I thought part of my life is not ; I have seen the 
great king conquered without a blow ! ” 

There was a sigh such as only shame can wring from a 
strong man. 

“ At the Chalcan's, where the many discontented meet to- 
night, there will be,” he resumed, much talk of war with- 
out the king. Such conferences are criminal ; and yet there 
shall be war.” 

He spoke with emphasis. 


258 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ In my exile without a cause,” he next said, “ I have 
learned to distinguish between the king and country. I 
have even reflected upon conditions when the choosing be- 
tween them may become a duty. Far he they hence ! hut 
when they come, Anahuac >shall have her son. To accom- 
plish their purpose, the lords in the city rely upon their 
united power, which is nothing ; with the signet in his hand, 
Maxtla alone could disperse their forces. There is that, 
however, hy which what they seek can he wrought right- 
fully, — something under the throne, not above it, where 
they are looking, and only the gods are, — a power known to 
every ruler as his servant when wisely cared for, and his 
master when disregarded ; public opinion we call it, meaning 
the judgment and will of the many. In this garb of artisan, 
I have been with the people all day, and for a purpose 
higher than sight of what I abhorred. I talked with them. 
I know them. In the march from Xoloc there was not a 
shout. In the awful silence, what of welcome was there 1 
Honor to the people ! Before they are conquered the lake 
will wear a red not of the sun ! Imagine them of one 
mind, and zealous for war : how long until the army catches 
the sentiment 1 Imagine the streets and temples resounding 
with a constant cry, ‘ Death to the strangers I ’ how long 
until the king yields to the clamor 1 0 comrade, that would 
be the lawful triumph of public opinion ; and so, I say, war 
shall be.” 

After that the ’tzin remained sunk in thought until the 
canoe touched the landing at his garden. Leaving the boat- 
men there, he proceeded, with Hualpa, to the palace. In 
his study, he said, “ You have seen the head of the stranger 
whom I slew at Nauhtlan. I have another trophy. Come 
with me.” 

Providing himself with a lamp, he led the way to what 
seemed a kind of workshop. Upon the walls, mixed with 


PUBLIC OPINION. 


259 



strange banners, hung all kinds of Aztec armor; a bench 
stood by one of the windows, covered with tools ; on the 
floor lay bows, arrows, and lances, of such fashion as to be- 
tray the experimentalist. The corners were decorated, if the 
term may be used, with effigies of warriors preserved by the 
process peculiar to the people. In the centre of the room, a 
superior attraction to Hualpa, stood a horse, which had been 
subjected to the same process, but was so lifelike now that 
he could hardly think it dead. The posture chosen for the 
animal was that of partial repose, its head erect, its ears 
thrown sharply forward, its nostrils distended, the forefeet 
firmly planted ; so it had, in life, often stood watching the 
approach or disappearance of its comrades. The housings 
were upon it precisely as when taken from the field. 

“ I promised there should be war,” the Tzin said, when he 
supposed Hualpa’s wonder spent, “and that the people 
should bring it about, blow I say, that the opinion I rely 
upon would ripen to-morrow, were there not a thick cloud 
about it. The faith that Malinche and his followers are 
teules has spread from the palace throughout the valley. 
Unless it be dispelled, Anahuac must remain the prey of the 
spoiler. Mualox, the keeper of the old Cu of Quetzal’, taught 
me long ago, that in the common mind mystery can only 
be assailed by mystery ; and that, 0 comrade, is what I now 
propose. This nameless thing here belonged to the stranger 
whom I slew at ^^auhtlan. Come closer, and lay your hand 
upon it ; mount it, and you may know how its master felt 
the day he rode it to death. There is his lance, there his 
shield, here his helm and whole array ; take them, and 
learn what httle is required to make a god of a man.” 

Tor a moment he busied himself getting the property of 
the unfortunate Christian together ; then he stopped before 
the Tihuancaii, saying, “ Let others choose their parts, O 
commde. All a wamor may do, that will I. If the Empire 


( 


260 


THE FAIR GOD. 


must die, it shall be like a fighting man, — a hero’s song for 
future minstrels. Help me now. We will take the trophy 
to the city, and set it up in the tianguez along with the 
shield, arms, and armor. The rotting head in the summer- 
house we will fix near by on the lance. To-morrow, when 
the traders open their stalls, and the thousands so shamelessly 
sold come back to their bartering and business, a mystery 
shall meet them which no man can look upon and afterwards 
believe Malinche a god. I see the scene, — the rush of the 
people, their surprise, their pointing fingers. I hear the 
eager questions, ‘ What are they ? ’ ‘ Whence came they ? * 

I hear the ready answer, ‘ Death to the strangers ! ’ Then, O 
comrade, will begin the Opinion, by force of which, the gods 
willing, we shall yet hear the drum of Huitzil’. Lay hold 
now, and let us to the canoe with the trophies.” 

“ If it be heavy as it seems, good ’tzin,” said Hualpa, 
stooping to the wooden slab which served as the base of the 
effigy, “ I fear we shall be overtasked.” 

“ It is not heavy ; two children could carry it. A word 
more before we proceed. In what I propose there is a peril 
aside from the patrols in the tianguez, Malinche will hear 
of — ” 

Hualpa laughed. “ Was ever a victim sacrificed before he 
was caught ? ” 

“ Hear further,” said the ’tzin, gravely. “ I took the king 
to the summer-house, and showed him the head, which he 
will recognize. Your heart, as well as mine, may pay the 
forfeit. Consider.” 

“ Lay hold, O ’tzin ! Did you not but now call me com- 
rade ? Lay hold ! ” 

Thereupon they carried the once good steed out to the 
landing. Then the ’tzin went to the kiosk for the Span- 
iard’s head, while Hualpa returned to the palace for the 
arms and equipments. The head, wrapped in a cloth, was 


A MESSAGE FROM THE GODS. 


261 


dropped in the bow of the boat, and the horse and trappings 
carried on board. Trusting in the gods, the voyageurs 
pushed off, and were landed, without interruption, near the 
great tianguez. 


CHAPTEE II. 

A MESSAGE FROM THE GODS. 

is done ! ” said tlie ’tzin, in a whisper. It is done ! 

_L One more service, 0 comrade, if — ” 

“Do not spare me, good ’tzin. I am happiest when serv- 
ing you.” 

“ Then stay in the city to-night, and he here early after 
the discovery. Take part with the crowd, and, if oppoiv 
tunity offer, direct it. I must return to my exile. Eeport 
when aU is over. The gods keep you ! Farewell.” 

Hualpa, familiar with the square, went to the portico of 
the Chalcan ; and as the lamps were out, and the curtains of 
the door drawn for the night, with the privilege of an habitue 
he stretched himself upon one of the lounges, and, lulled by 
the fountain, fell asleep. 

A shout awoke him. He looked out to see the day break- 
ing in gloom. The old sky of blue, in which the summer 
had so long and lovingly nestled, was turned to lead ; the 
smoke seemed to have fallen from the temples, and, burden- 
ing the atmosphere, was driving along slowly and heavily, like 
something belonging to the vanishing night. Another cry 
louder than the first ; then the door, or, rather, the screen, 
behind him was opened, and the Chalcan himself came 
forth. 

“ Ah, son of my friend ! — Hark ! Some maudlin fellow 
hallooes. The fool would like to end his sleep, hard enough 


262 


THE FAIR GOD. 


out there, in the temple. But you, — where have you 
been ? ” 

“ Here, good Xoli, on this lounge.” 

“ The night ? Ah ! the pulque was too much for you. For 
your father’s sake, boy, I give you advice : To be perfectly 
happy in Tenochtitlan, it is necessary to remember, first, how 
the judges punish drunkenness ; next, that there is no pure 
liquor in the city except in the king’s jars, and — There, 
the shout again ! two of them ! a third ! ” 

And the broker also looked out of the portico. 

“ Holy gods, what a smoke ! There go some sober citi- 
zens, neighbors of mine, — and running. Something of in- 
terest ! Come, Hualpa, let us go also. The times are won- 
derful. You know there are gods in Tenochtitlan besides 
those we worship. Come ! ” 

“ I am hungry.” 

“ I will feed you to bursting when we get back. Come on.” 

As they left the portico, people were hastening to the cen 
tre of the square, where the outcry was now continuous and 
growing. 

“ Boom for the Chalcan ! ” said a citizen, already on the 
ground. “ Let him see what is here fallen from the clouds.” 

Great was the astonishment of the broker when his eyes 
first rested on the stately figure of the horse, and the terrible 
head on the lance above it. Hualpa affected the same feeb 
ing, but, having a part to play, shouted, as in alarm, — 

“It is one of the fighting beasts of Maiinche ! Beware, 
0 citizens ! Your lives may be in danger.” 

The crowd, easily persuaded, fell back. 

“ Let us get arms ! ” shouted one. 

“ Arms I Get arms ! ” then rose, in full chorus. 

Hualpa ventured nearer, and cried out, “ The beast is 
dead ! ” 

“ Keep off, boy ! ” said Xoli, himself at a respectable dis^ 
tance. “ Trust it not ; such things do not die.” 


A MESSAGE FROM THE GODS. 


263 


Kever speech more opportune for the Tihuancan. 

Be it of the earth or Sun, I tell you, friends, it is dead,” 
he replied, more loudly. “ Who knows but that the holy 
Huitzil’ has set it up here to he seen of all of us, that we 
may know Malinche is not a god. Is there one among you 
who has a javelin 1 ” 

A weapon was passed to him over the heads of the fast in- 
creasing crowd. 

“ Stand aside ! I will see.” 

Without more ado, the adventurer thrust deep in the 
horse’s flank. Those directly about held their breath from 
fear ; and when the brute stirred not, they looked at each 
other, not knowing what to say. That it was dead, was past 
doubt. 

“ Who will gainsay me now ] ” continued Hualpa. “ It 
is dead, and so is he to whom yon head belonged. Gods 
fall not so low.” 

It was one of those moments when simple minds are easily 
converted to any belief. 

“ Gods they are not,” said a voice in the throng ; “ but 
whence came they ” 

“ And who put them here ] ” asked another. 

Hualpa answered swiftly, — 

“ WeU said ! The gods speak not directly to those whom 
they would admonish or favor. And if this be the handi- 
work of Huitzil’, — and what more likely ? — should we not 
inquire if it have a meaning 1 It may be a message. Is 
there a reader of pictures among you, friends 1 ” 

‘‘ Here is one ! ” 

‘‘ Let him come ! Make way for him ! ” 

A citizen, from his dress a merchant, was pushed forward 

“ What experience have you ? ” 

I studied in the calmecac ! ” * 


The University. 


264 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The man raised his eyes to the head on the lance, and they 
became transfixed with horror. 

“ Look, then, to what we have here, and, saying it is a 
message from the holy Huitzil’, read it for us. Speak out, 
that all may hear.” 

The citizen was incapable of speech, and the people cried 
out, “ He is a shame to the heroic god ! Off with him, off 
with him ! ” 

But Hualpa interfered. “ No. He still believes Malinche 
a god. Let him alone ! I can use him.” Then he spoke 
to the merchant. “ Hear me, my friend, and I will read. If 
I err, stop me.” 

Bead, read ! ” went up on all sides. 

Hualpa turned to the group as if studying it. Around 
him fell the silence of keen expectancy. 

“ Thus writes Huitzil’, greatest of gods, to the children of 
Anahuac, greatest of peoples ! ” — so Hualpa began. “ ‘ The 
strangers in Tenochtitlan are my enemies, and yours, 0 peo - 
ple. They come to overthrow my altars-, and make you a 
nation of slaves. You have sacrificed and prayed to me, and 
now I say to you. Arise ! Take arms before it is too late. 
Malinche and his followers are but men. Strike them, and 
chey will die. To convince you that they are not gods, lo ! 
here is one of them dead. So I say, slay them, and every- 
thing that owns them master, even the beasts they ride ! ’ 
— Ho, friend, is not that correct h ” 

“ So I would have read,” said the merchant. 

“ Praised be Huitzil’ ! ” cried Hualpa, devoutly. 

Live the good god of our fathers ! Death to the stran- 
gers ! ” answered the people. 

And amid the stir and hum of many voices, the comrade 
of the ’tzin, listening, heard his words repeated, and passed 
from man to man ; so that he knew his mission done, and 
that by noon the story of the effigy would be common 


A MESSAGE FROM THE GODS. 


265 


throughout the city, and in flight over the valley, with 
his exposition of its meaning accepted and beyond counter- 
action. 

After a while the Chalcan caught his arm, saying, “ The 
smell is dreadful to a cultivated nose sharpened by an empty 
stomach. Snuff for one, breakfast for the other. Let us 
go.” 

Hualpa followed him. 

“ Who is he 1 who is he 1 ” asked the bystanders, eagerly. 

“ Him ! Hot know him ! It is the brave lad who slew 
the tiger and saved the king’s life.” 

And the answer was to the exposition like an illuminated 
seal to a royal writ. 

Morning advanced, curtained with clouds ; and, as the ac- 
count of the spectacle flew, the multitude in the tianguez 
increased, until there was not room left for business. All 
who caught the news hurried to see the sight, and for 
themselves read the miraculous message of Huitzil’. The 
clamor of tongues the while was like the clamor of waves, 
and not singularly ; for thus was fought the first great 
battle, — the battle of the mysteries, — and with this re- 
sult : if a believer in the divinity of Cortes looked once at 
the rotting head on the lance, he went away of the ’tzin’s 
opinion, impatient for war. 

About noon a party of Spaniards, footmen, armed and out 
inspecting the city, entered the square. The multitude 
daunted them not the least. Talking, sometimes laughing, 
they sauntered along, peering into the open booths and stalls, 
and watching with practised eyes for gold. 

Holy mass ! ” exclaimed one of them, stopping. “ The 
heathen are at sacrifice.” 

“ Sacrifice, saidst thou ? This is their market-place.” 

That as thou wilt. I tell thee they have been at wor- 
ship. My eyes are not dim as my mother’s, who was past 
12 


266 


THE FAIR GOD. 


fifty the day we sailed from Cuba, — may the saints preserve 
her ! If they were, yet could I swear that yonder hangs the 
head of a victim.” 

Over the restless crowd they looked at the ghastly object, 
eager yet uncertain. 

“Now I bethink me, the poor wretch who hath suffered 
the death may have been one of the half- assoilzied sons of 
Tlascala. If we are in a stronghold of enemies, as I have 
concluded from the wicked, Carib looks of these savages. 
Heaven and St. James defend us ! We are a score with 
weapons ; in the Mother’s name, let us to the bloody sign ! ” 

The unarmed mass into which, without further consider- 
ation, they plunged, was probably awed by the effrontery of 
the movement, for the leader had not once occasion to shorten 
his advancing step. Halted before the spectacle, they looked 
first at the horse, then at the head. Remembrance was faith- 
ful : in one, they recognized the remains of a comrade ; in 
the other, his property. 

“ Arguella, Arguella ! Good captain ! Santa Maria ! ” 
burst from them. 

As they gazed, tears of pity and rage filled their eyes, and 
coursed down their bronzed cheeks. 

“ Peace ! ” said the sterner fellow at whose suggestion they 
had come. “ Are ye soldiers, or whimpering women h Do 
as I bid ! Save your tears for Rather Bartolome to mix with 
masses for the poor fellow’s soul. Look to the infidels ! I 
will take down the head.” 

He lowered the lance, and took off the loathsome ob- 
ject. 

“ We will carry it to the Senor Hernan. It shall have 
burial, and masses, and a cross. Hands to the horse now ! 
Arguella loved it well ; many a day I have seen him comb 
its mane kindly as if it had been the locks of his sweetheart. 
Nay, it is too unwieldy. Let it stand, but take the armor. 


HOW ILLS OF STATE BECOME ILLS OF SOCIETY. 267 


Hug the good sword close. Heaven willing, it shall redden 
in the carcasses of some of these hounds of hell. Are we 
ready 'i To quarters, then ! As we go, mark the unbelievers, 
and cleave the first that lifts a hand or bars the way.” 

They reached the old palace in safety. Heedless to depict 
the grief and rage of the Christians at sight of the counte- 
nance of the unfortunate Arguella. 


CHAPTEE HI. 


HOW ILLS OP STATE BECOME ILLS OP SOCIETY. 

Y this time, lo’, the prince, had acquired somewhat 



_D of the importance of a man. Thanks to Hualpa, and 
his own industry, he could hurl a javelin, strike stoutly with 
a maquahuitl, and boast of skill with the bow. As well he 
might, he smiled at thought of the maternal care, and from 
his sisters demanded a treatment due to one of his accom- 
pHshments and dignity. 

The day after the incidents narrated in the preceding 
chapter, he entered Tula’s apartment, and requested her to 
dismiss her attendants. 

Sit down, my brother,” she said, when they were alone. 
“You look vexed. What has happened 1 ” 

Going to a table close by, he commenced despoiling a vase 
of flowers. She repeated the question. 

“ I am glad,” he answered, “ to find one whom the coming 
of the strangers has not changed.” 

“ What now ^ ” 

“ I have been again and again to see Henetzin, but she re- 
fuses me. Is she sick 1 ” 

“ Hot that I know.” 


268 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Then why is she so provoking ? ” 

‘‘ My brother, yon know not what it is for a girl to find 
her lover. Nenetzin has found hers.” 

“ It is to talk about him I want to see her.” 

“ You know him ! How 1 when 1 ” 

“ Do I not see him every day ? Is he not my comrade 1 ” 

“ Your comrade ! ” 

“ The lord Hualpa 1 He came to you once with a message 
from the ’tzin.” 

To a woman, the most interesting stories are those that 
have to do with the gentle passion. Seeing his mistake, she 
encouraged it. 

“ Yes, I remember him. He is both brave and handsome.” 

lo’ left the vase, and came to her side. His curiosity was 
piqued. 

“ How came you to know he was her lover ? He would 
hardly confess it to me.” 

“Yet he did tell you 'i ” she answered, evasively. 

“ Yes. One day, tired of practising with our slings, we 
lay down in the shade of a ceiha-tree. We talked about 
what I should do when I became a man. I should be a war- 
rior, and command armies, and conquer Tlascala ; he should 
he a warrior also, and in my command. That should not he, 
I told him, as he would always he the most skilful. He 
laughed, but not as merrily as I have heard him. Then he 
said, ‘ There are many things you will have learned by that 
time ; such as what rank is, and especially what it is to be 
of the king’s blood.’ I asked him why he spoke so. He said 
he would teU me some day, hut not then. And I thought 
of the time we went to meet you at the chinampa, and of 
how he gave you a vase from the ’tzin, and one to Henetzin 
from himself. Then I thought I understood him, but in- 
sisted on his telhng. He put me off ; at last he said he was a 
foolish fellow, and in his lonely haunts in Tihuanco had ac- 


HOW ILLS OF STATE BECOME ILLS OF SOCIETY. 269 


quired a habit of dreaming, which was not broken as he 
would like. He had first seen Nenetzin at the Quetzal’ com- 
bat, and thought her handsomer than any one he had ever 
met. The day on the lake he ventured to speak to her ; she 
smiled, and took his gift ; and since that he had not been 
-strong enough to quit thinking about her. It was great 
folly, he said. ‘ Why so ? ’ I asked him. He hid his face 
in the grass, and answered, ‘ I am the son of a merchant ; 
she is of the king’s blood, and would mock me.’ ‘ But,’ said 
I, ‘ you are now noble, and owner of a palace.’ He raised 
his head, and looked at me ; had she been there, she would 
not have mocked him. ‘ Ah,’ he said, ‘ if I could only get 
her to cease thinking of me as the trader’s son ! ’ ‘Now you 
are foolish,’ I told him. ‘ Did you not win your rank by 
fighting 1 Why not fight for’ — Nenetzin, I was about to 
say, but he sprang up and ran off, and it was long before I 
could get him to speak of her again. The other day, however, 
he consented to let me try and find out what she thought of 
him. To-morrow I rejoin him ; and if he asks me about her, 
what can I say h ” 

“ So you wished to help your poor comrade. Tell me 
what you intended saying to her.” 

“ I intended to tell her how I was passing the time, and 
then to praise him for his courage and skill, his desire to be 
great, his gentleness — 0, there are a thousand things to 

say ! ” 

Tula smiled sorrowfully. “ Did you imagine she would 
learn to love him from that 1 ” 

“ Why not 1 ” asked lo’, innocently. 

“ I cannot explain now ; time wiU teach you. My brother, 
long will an Aztec woo before he wins our wayward sister ! ” 

“ Well,” he said, taking her hand, “ what I wanted to say 
to her will come better from you. Ah, if you but knew 
him as I and the ’tzin do 1 ” 


270 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Does the ’tzin so love him ? ” 

“ Was he not a chosen messenger to you h ” 

She shook her head doubtfully. “ I fear she is beyond * 
our little arts. Fine speeches alone will not do. Though we 
painted him fair as Quetzal’, and set the picture before hef^ 
every hour in the day, still it would not be enough. Does 
he come often to the city 1 ” 

“ Never, except for the ’tzin.” 

“We must get them together. Let me see, — ah, yes ; the 
chinampa ! We have not been there for a long time, and 
that will be an excuse for going to-morrow. You can bring 
the lord Hualpa, and I will take a minstrel, and have him 
sing, and tell stories of love and lovers.” 

She stopped, and sighed, thinking, doubtless, how the 
’tzin’s presence would add to the pleasure of the meeting. 

At that moment the curtain of the door was flung aside, and 
Nenetzin herself came in, looking vexed and pouting. 

“ Yesterday was too much for my sister,” said Tula, pleas- 
antly. “ I hope she is well again.” 

“ I slept poorly,” was the reply. 

“ If you are sick, we will send to the temples — ” 

“No, I hate the herb-dealers.” 

“What ails you, Nenetzin?” asked lo’, irritated. 

“ Who would not be ailing, afflicted as I have been 1 One 
graceless fellow after another calling to see me, until I am 
out of patience ! ” 

lo’ colored, and turned away. 

“ But what if they had news,” said Tula ; “ something 
from the strangers ? ” 

Nenetzin’s face brightened. “ What of them 1 Have 
they waited on our father 1 ” 

“ Have they, lo’ 1 ” Tula asked. 

He made no answer ; he was angry. 

“ Well, well ! what folly ! You, lo’, I shall have to send 


HOW ILLS OF STATE BECOME ILLS OF SOCIETY. 271 


back to the ’tzin ; and, Nenetzin, fie ! the young lords would 
be afraid to see you now.” 

“ The monkeys ! ” 

lo’, without a word, left the room. 

“You are too hard, Nenetzin. Our brother wants to be 
treated like a man. Many of the young lords are his friends. 
When you came in, he was telling me of the fine fellow 
who saved our father’s life.” 

Nenetzin appeared uninterested. 

“ From lo’s account, he must be equal to the ’tzin. Have 
you forgotten him ? ” 

“ I have his vase somewhere.” 

“ Somewhere ! I hope you have not lost it. I received 
one at the same time ; there mine is, — that one filled with 
flowers.” 

Nenetzin did not look. 

“ When he made you the gift, I think he meant more 
than a compliment. He is a lover to be proud of, and, sis- 
ter, a smile might win him.” 

“ I do not care for lovers.” 

“ Not care to be loved ? ” 

Nenetzin turned to her with tearful eyes. “Just now 
you said lo’ wanted to be treated as a man ; for the same 
reason, O Tula, I want to be treated as a woman. I do want 
to be loved, but not as children are.” 

Tula put her arm around her, lovingly. “ Never mind. I 
will learn better afterwhile. I treat you as a child from 
habit, and because of the warm, sweet love of our child- 
hood. O that the love would last always ! ” 

They were silent then, each intent upon her separate 
thought, both unconscious that the path theretofore so 
peacefully travelled together was now divergent, and that the 
fates were leading them apart forever. Of all the evil angels 
of humanity, that one is the most cruel whose mission it is 
to sunder the loves of the household. 


272 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ ^^enetzin, you have been crying, — over what ? Lean 
on me, confide in me ! ” 

“ Yon will make light of what I say.” 

“ When was I a jester 1 You have had ills before, childish 
ills ; if I did not mock them, am I likely to laugh at your 
woman’s troubles ? ” 

“But this is something you cannot help.” 

“ The gods can.” 

“ A god is the trouble. I saw him, and love him better 
than any our father worships. ” 

Bold confirmation that of the elder sister’s fears. “ You 
saw him 1 ” she asked, musingly. 

“ And know him by name. Tonatiah, Tonatiah : is it 
not pretty % ” 

“ Are you not afraid ? ” 

“ Of what 1 Him 1 Yes, but he is so handsome ! You 
saw him also. Did you not notice his white forehead, and 
the brightness of his blue eyes, the sunshine of his face? 
As against him, ah, Tula ! what are the lords you would have 
me love h ” 

“ He is our father’s enemy.” 

“ His guest ; he came by invitation.” 

“All the gods of our race threaten him.” 

“Yet I love him, and would quit everything to follow 
him.” 

“ Gods ask not the love we give each other.” 

“You mean he would despise me. Never! I am the 
daughter of a king.” 

“ You are mad, Nenetzin.” 

“ Then love is madness, and I am very mad. 0, I was 
so happy yesterday ! Once I thought he saw me. It was 
when he was passing the coatapantli. The base artisan was 
shouting, and he heard him, or seemed to, for he raised his 
glance to the azoteas. My heart stood still ; the air brightened 


HOW ILLS OF STATE BECOME ILLS OF SOCIETY. 273 


around me ; if I had been set down in the Sun itself, I could 
not have been happier.” 

“ Have you mentioned this to the queen Acatlan 1 ” 

“ Why should II I will choose my own love. Ho one, 
not even my mother, would object to the king Cacama : 
why should she when my choice is nobler, handsomer, 
mightier than he *1 ” 

“ What do you know of the strangers ? ” 

“ Nothing. He is one of them ; that is enough.” 

“ I meant of their customs ; marriage, for instance.” 

“ The thought is new.” 

“Tell me, Henetzin : would you go with him, except as 
his wife 1 ” 

She turned away her glowing eyes, confused. “ I know 
not what I would do. If I went with him except as his 
wife, our father would curse me, and my mother would die. 
I shudder ; yet I remember how his look from a distance 
made me tremble with strange delight.” 

“ It was magic, like Mualox’s.” 

“I do not know. I was about to say, if such was his 
power over me at a distance, what may it be near by 1 Could 
I refuse to follow him, if he should ask me face to face, as 
we now are ^ ” 

“ Avoid him, then.” 

“ Stay here, as in a prison ! Never look out of doors for 
fear of seeing him whom I confess I so love ! And then, 
the music, marching, banquets : shall I lose them, and for 
such a cause 1 ” 

“Nenetzin, the strangers will not abide here in peace. 
War there will be. The gods have so declared, and in every 
temple preparation is now going on.” 

“ Who told you so 1 ” the girl asked, tremulously. 

“ This morning I was in the garden, culling flowers. I 
met Mualox. He seemed sad. I saluted him, and gave 

12* R 


274 


THE FAIR GOD. 


him the sweetest of my collection, and said something about 
them as a cure for ills of the mind. ‘ Thank you, daughter,’ 
he said, * the ills I mourn are your father’s. If you can get 
him to forego his thoughts of war against Malinche, do so 
at any price. If flowers influence him, come yourself, and 
bring your maidens, and gather them all for him. Leave not 
a bud in the garden.’ *Is he so bent on warV I asked. 
* That is he. In the temples every hand is making ready.’ 
‘ But my father counsels otherwise.’ The old man shook his 
head. ^ I know every purpose of his soul.’ ” 

“ And is that all ? ” asked Nenetzin. 

“Ho. Have you not heard what took place in the tian- 
guez this morning 1 ” 

And Tula told of the appearance of the horse and the 
stranger’s head ; how nobody knew who placed them there ; 
how they were thought to have come from Huitzil’, and 
with what design ; and how the wish for war was spread, 
until the beggars in the street were clamoring. “ War there 
will be, 0 my sister, right around us. Our father wiU lead 
the companies against Malinche. The ’tzin, Cuitlahua, lo’, 
and all we love best of our countrymen will take part. 
0 Henetzin, of the children of the Sun, will you alone 
side with the strangers 1 Tonatiah may slay our great 
father.” 

“ And yet I would go with him,” the girl said, slowly, 
and with sobs. 

“Then you are not an Aztec,” cried Tula, pushing her 
away. 

Henetzin stepped back speechless, and throwing her scarf 
over her head, turned to go. 

The elder sister sprang up, conscience-struck, and caught 
her. “ Pardon, Henetzin. I did not know what I was say- 
ing. Stay — ” 

“Not now. I cannot help loving the stranger.” 


ENNUYE IN THE OLD PALACE. 


275 


“ The love shall not divide us ; we are sisters ! ” And Tula 
clung to her passionately. 

“ Too late, too late ! ” sobbed Nenetzin. 

And she passed out the door ; the curtain dropped behind 
her ; and Tula went to the couch, and wept as if her heart 
were breaking. 

Not yet have all the modes in which ills of state become 
ills of society been written. 


CHAPTER IV. 


BNNUYB IN THE OLD PALACE. 


ATHER, holy father ! — and by my sword, as belted 



knight, Olmedo, I call thee so in love and honor, — 
I have heard thee talk in learned phrase about the saints, 
and quote the sayings of monks, mere makers of books, 
which I will swear are for the most part dust, or, at 
least, not half so well preserved as the bones of their 
scribblers, — I say I have thus heard thee talk and quote for 
hours at a time, until I have come to think thy store of 
knowledge is but jargon of that kind. Shake thy head! 
Jargon, I say a second time.” 

It is knowledge that leadeth to righteousness. Bien 
quisto ! Thou wouldst do weU to study it,” replied the 
padre, curtly. 

A mocking smile curled the red-haired lip of the cavalier. 
“ Knowledge truly ! I recollect hearing the Senor Hernan 
once speak of thee. He said thou wert to him a magazine, 
full of learning precious as breadstuifs.” 

“ Right, my son ! Breadstuffs for the souls of sinners 
irreverent as — ” 


276 


THE FAIR GOD. 


» Out with it ! ” 

“ As thou.” 

Picaro ! Only last night thou didst absolve me, and, 
by the Palmerins, I have just told my beads ! ” 

“ I think I have heard of the Palmerins,” said the priest, 
gravely; “indeed, I am certain of it ; but I never heard 
of them as things to swear by before. Hast thou a license 
as coiner of oaths ? ” 

“ Cierto^ father, thou dost remind me of my first purpose ; 
which was to test thy knowledge of matters, both ancient 
and serious, outside of what thou callest the sermons of the 
schoolmen. And I will not take thee at disadvantage. 0 
no ! If I would play fairly with the vilest heathen, and_ 
slay him with none but an honest trick of the sword, surely 
I cannot less with thee.” 

“ Slay me ! ” 

“ That will I, — in a bout at dialectics. I will be fair, I 
say. I will begin by taking thee in a field which every 
knight hath traversed, if, perchance, he hath advanced so far 
in clerkliness as to read, — a field divided between heralds, 
troubadours, and poets, and not forbidden to monks ; with 
which thou shouldst be well acquainted, seeing that, of late 
days at least, thou hast been more prone to knightly than 
saintly association ! ” 

“ Santa Maria ! ” said Olmedo, crossing himself. “ It is 
our nature to be prone to things sinful.” 

“ I smell the cloister in thy words. Have at thee ! Stay 
thy steps.” 

The two had been pacing the roof of the palace during the 
foregoing passage. Both stopped now, and Alvarado said, 
“ Firstly, — nay, I wiU none of that ; numbering the heads 
of a discourse is a priestly trick. To begin, by my con- 
science ! — ho, father, that oath offends thee not, for it is the 
Senor Hernan’s, and by him thou art thyself always ready 
to swear.” 


ENNUY^ IN THE OLD PALACE. 


277 


‘‘ If thou wouldst not get lost in a confusion of ideas, to 
thy purpose quickly.” 

“ Thank thee. Who was Amadis de Gaul 1 ” 

“ Hero of the oldest Spanish poem.” 

“ Eight ! ” said the knight, stroking his beard. ‘‘ And 
who was Oriana % ” 

“ Heroine of the same story ; more particularly, daughter 
of Lisuarte, King of England.” ^ 

“ Thou didst reprove me for swearing by the Palmerins ; 
who were they 1 ” 

“ Famous knights, who founded chivalry by going about 
slaying dragons, working charities, and overthrowing armies 
of heathen, for the Mother’s sake.” 

“ Excellently answered, by my troth ! I will have to lead 
thee into deeper water. Pass we the stories of Euy Diaz, 
and Del Carpio, and Pelayo. I will even grant that thou 
hast heard of Hernan Gonzales ; but canst thou teU in how 
many baUads his prowess hath been sung ] ” 

Olmedo was silent. 

“ Already ! ” cried Alvarado, exultant. “ Already I By 
the cross on my sword, I have heard of thirty. But to pro- 
ceed. Omitting Poland, and Koncesvalles, and the brethren 
of the Pound Table, canst thou tell me of the Seven Lords 
of Lares 1” 

“ Ko. But there is a Lord of whom I can tell thee, and 
of whom it will be far more profitable for thee to inquire.” 

I knew a minstrel — a rare fellow — who had a won- 
drous voice and memory, and who sang fifteen songs all 
about the Lords of Lares ; and he told me there were as 
many more. 0, for the time of the true chivalry, when our 
Spanish people were song-lovers, and honor was of higher 
esteem than gold! In one respect, Olmedo, I am more 
Moslem than Christian.” 

The padre crossed himself. 


278 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Mahomet — so saith history — taught his warriors that 
Paradise lieth in the shade of crossing scimitars, — as unlike 
thy doctrine as a stone is unlike a plum. Picaro ! It 
pleaseth me ; it hardeneth the heart and grip ; it is more 
inspiring than clarions and drums.” 

Olmedo looked into the blue eyes of the knight, now un- 
usually bright, and said, “ Thou didst jest at my knowledge ; 
now I ask thee, son, is it not better to have a mind full of 
saintly lore than one which nothing holds but swords and 
lances and high-bred steeds ? What dost thou know but 
war 1 ” 

The taste of good wine,” said Alvarado, seriously ; “ and 
by Sta. Agnes, holy father, I would I had my canteen full ; 
the smoke from these dens is turning me into a Dutch sau- 
sage. Look to the towers of yon temple, — the great one 
just before us. How the clouds ascending from them poison 
the morning air ! When my sword is at the throats of the 
fire-keepers. Heaven help me to slay them!” 

Alvarado then took the tassels of the cord around the good 
man’s waist, and pulled him forward. “ Come briskly, 
father ! This roof is aU the field left us for exercise ; and 
much do I fear that we will dream many times of green 
meadows before we see them again.” Half dragging him, 
the knight lengthened his strides. “ Step longer, father ! 
Thou dost mince the pace, like a woman.” 

“ Hands off, irreverent ! ” cried the padre, holding back. 

My feet are not iron-shod, like thine.” 

“ What ! Didst thou not climb the mountains on the 
way hither barefooted ? And dost now growl at these tiles ? 
Last night Sandoval shod his mare, the gay MotiUa, with 
silver, which he swore was cheaper, if not better, than iron. 
When next we take a morning trot, like this, derto, I will 
borrow two of the precious shoes for thee.” 

Olmedo’s gown, of coarse, black woollen serge, was not a 


ENNUYE IN THE OLD PALACE. 


279 


garment a Greek, preparing for a race, would have chosen ; 
the long skirts hampered his legs ; he stumbled, and would 
have fallen, hut for his tormentor. 

“Stay thee, father! Hast been drinking] Hot here 
shouldst thou kneel unless in prayer ; and for that, bethink 
thee, house-tops are for none but Jews.” And the rough 
knight laughed heartily. “ Hay, talking will tire thee,” he 
continued. “ Take breath first. If my shield were at hand, 
I would fan thee. Or wouldst thou prefer to sit ] or bet- 
ter still, to lie down ] Do so, if thou wouldst truly oblige 
me ; for, by my conscience, as Cortes sweareth, I have not 
done testing thy knowledge of worthy things outside the 
convent hbraries. I will take thee into a new field, and ask 
of the Moorish lays ; for, as thou shouldst know, if thou 
dost not, they have had their minstrels and heroes as fanciful 
and valiant as infidels ever were ; in truth, but little inferior 
to the best of old Castile.” 

Olmedo attempted to speak. 

“ Open not thy mouth, father, except to breathe. I will 
talk until thy tire is over. I was on the Moors. A fine 
race they were, hating always their religion. Of their songs, 
thou hast probably heard that mournful roundelay, the Loves 
of Gazul and Ahindarraez ; probably listened to Tales of the 
Arabian Hights, or to verses celebrating the tournaments in 
the Bivarramhla. Certainly, thou hast heard recitals of the 
rencontres, scimitar in hand, between the Zegris and Aben- 
cerrages. By Sta. Agnes ! they have had warriors fit for the 
noblest songs. At least, father, thou knowest — ” He stopped 
abruptly, while a lad mounted the roof and approached them, 
cap in hand. 

“ Excellent Seiior, so it please thee, my master hath some- 
what to say to thee in his chamber below. And ” — cross- 
ing himself to Olmedo — “ if the holy father will'rememher 
me in his next prayer, I will tell him that Bernal Diaz is 
looking for him.” 


280 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ Doth thy master want me also 1 ” 

“ That is Diaz’s massage.” 

‘‘ What can he in the wind now 1 ” asked Alvarado, mus- 
ingly- 

Hadst thou asked me that question — ” 

“ Couldst thou have answered 1 Take the chance ! What 
doth thy master intend ? ” 

Look, Don Pedro, and thou, good father,” replied tho 
page ; “ look to the top of yon pile so ridiculously called a 
temple of — ” 

Speak it, as thou lovest me,” cried Alvarado. 

Wilt thou pronounce it after me 1 ” 

“ That will I ; though, cierto, I will not promise my horse 
if I fail.” 

Huitzilpotchli^^ said the hoy, slowly. 

The saints defend us ! ” exclaimed the knight, crossing 
himself. “ Where didst thou get so foul a name 1 ” 

“ Of the Dona Marina. Well, the Senor Hernan, my 
master, designeth visiting those towers, and seeing what hor- 
rors they hold.” 

Olmedo’s countenance became unusually grave. “ Holy 
Mother, keep his temper in check, that nothing rash he 
done ! ” 

Alvarado received the news differently. “ Thou art a good 
hoy, Orteguilla,” he said. I owe Miee a ducat. Eemind 
me of the debt when next thou seest me with gold. Espiritu 
Santo ! Now will I take the rust out of my knees, and the 
duU out of my head, and the spite from my stomach ! Now 
will I give my sword, that hath hungered so long, to surfeit 
on the heart-eaters ! Bien Quisto ! What jargon didst thou 
use a moment ago when speaking of the temple ? ” 

“ Huitzilpotchlij^ said the hoy, laughing. 

“ Murrain take the idol, if only for his name’s sake ! 
Come ; we shall have a good time.” 


ENNUYE IN THE OLD PALACE. 


281 


The knight turned to descend. Orteguilla caught him by 
the mantle. “ A word, Don Pedro.” 

“ Picaro / A thousand of them, quickly ! ” 

“ Thou didst promise me a ducat — ” 

“ Truly, and thou shalt have it. Only wait till the division 
cometh, and thy master saith to me, ‘ Take thy share.’ ” 

“ Thou hearest, father 1 ” 

“ How ! Dost doubt me 1 ” 

The boy stepped back. Ho. Alvarado’s promise is good 
against the world. But dost thou not think the Senor Her- 
nan will attack the temple ? ” 

“ CiertOy with horse, foot, guns, Tlascalans, and all.” - 
“He goeth merely on a visit, and by invitation of Monte- 
zuma, the king.” 

Olmedo’s face relaxed, and he rubbed his hands ; but the 
captain said, dismally, “ By invitation ! Picaro ! Instead 
of the ducat, that for thy news ! ” And he struck open- 
handedly at the page, but with such good-will that the 
latter gave him wide margin the rest of the day. 


•282 


THE FAIK GOD, 


CHAPTEE V. 


ALVARADO FINDS THE LIGHT OP THE WORLD. 

HERE was a bluster of trumpets and drums, and out 



JL of the main gate of the palace in which he was lodged, 
under the eyes of a concourse of spectators too vast to be 
nearly estimated, Cortes marched with the greater part of his 
Christians. The column was spirited, even brilliant. Good 
steeds had improved with rest ; while good fare, not to speak 
of the luxury of royal baths, had reconstituted both footmen 
and riders. At the head, as guides, walked four commis- 
sioners of the king, — stately men, gorgeous in escaupiles and 
plumed helms. 

The Spaniards were full of glee, vented broad exaggera- 
tions, and manifested the abandon I have seen in sailors 
ashore the first time after a long voyage. 

“ Be done, good horse ! ” said Sandoval to Motilla, whose 
blood warmed under the outcry of trumpet and clarion. 
“ Be done ! ” 

Montejo laughed. “ Chide her not ! She feels the silver 
on her heels as a fine lady the ribbons on her head.” 

“ Ho,” said Alvarado, laying his lance half in rest, “ Mo- 
tilla is a Christian, and the scent of the pagan is in her 
nostrils.” 

“ Up with thy lance, Senor Capitan / The guides, if they 
were to look back, would leave us without so much as good 
day.” 

“ CiertOj thou 'rt right ! But how pleasant it would be to 
impale two of them at once ! ” 

‘‘ Such thy speculation 1 I cannot believe thee. I have 
been thy comrade too long,” said Leon, gravely. 


ALVARADO FINDS THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 283 


Alvarado turned curtly, as if to say, ‘‘ Explain thyself.” 

“ The gold in their ears and on their wrists, Senor, — 
there were thine eyes. And thou didst look as if summing 
up, — ear-rings, four ; bracelets, six ; sundries, three ; total, 
thu^teen ounces pure. Confess thee, confess thee ! ” 

The laugh was loud and long. 

I have already given the reader an idea of the tiangueZy or 
market, whither Cortes, by request, was first conducted. It 
is sufficient to say now, that the exhibition of the jewellers 
attracted most attention ; in front of their booths many of 
the footmen actually broke ranks, determined to satisfy 
themselves if all they there saw was indeed of the royal 
metal. Years after, they vaunted the sight as something 
surpassing all the cities of Europe could display. 

Cortes occupied himself questioning the guides j for which 
purpose Marina was brought forward. Nothing of impor- 
tance escaped him. 

At one of the comers, while the interpreter was in the 
midst of a reply, Cortes’ horse suddenly stopped, startled 
by an obstacle in the way. Scarcely a lance-length off, 
pictures of terror, stood four slaves, richly liveried, and 
bearing a palanquin crowned by a green ‘panache. 

“ By Our Lady, I will see what is here contained ! ” 

So saying, Alvarado spurred impetuously forward. The 
guides threw themselves in his way ; he nearly rode one of 
them down ; and, laughing at the fright of the slaves, he 
drew aside the curtain of the carriage, and peered in. 

“ Jesu ! ” he cried, dropping the cloth, and reining his 
horse back. 

“ Hast thou the fiend there 1 Or only a woman 1 ” asked 
Cortes. 

“ A paragon, an houri, your excellency ! What a mde 
feUow I have been ! She is frightened. Come hither, Ma- 
rina. Say to the girl — ” 


284 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ Not now, not now ! ” said Cortes, abruptly. “ If she 
is pretty, thou wilt see her again.” 

Alvarado frowned. 

“ What ! angry 1 ” continued the general. ‘‘ Out on thee, 
captain ! How can an untaught infidel, though paragon 
and houri, understand knightly phrases ? What the merit 
of an apology in her eyes 1 Pass on ! ” 

“ Perhaps thou ’rt right. Stand aside ! Out of the way 
there ! ” And as if to make amends, he cleared a passage for 
the slaves and their burden. 

“ To the devil aU of ye ! ” he replied, to the laughter of 
his comrades. “Ye did not see her, nor know ye if she is 
old or young, harridan or angel.” 

From the market, the column marched back to the great 
temple, with which, as it rose, broad and high, like a ter- 
raced hiU, between the palace they occupied and the sun at 
rising, they were somewhat familiar. Yet, when fairly in 
view of the pile, Cortes called Olmedo to his side. 

“ I thank thee. Father Bartolom4. That thou art near, I 
feel better. A good surcoat and shield, as thou knowest, 
give a soldier confidence in battle ; and so, as I come nigh 
yon abomination, full of bloody mysteries, called worship, 
and carven stones, called gods, — may they be accursed from 
the earth ! — I am pleased to make use of thee and thy 
holiness. Doubtless the air of the place is thick with sor- 
ceries and evil charms ; if so, thy crucifix hath more of safe- 
guard than my sword. Eide nearer, father, and hearken, 
that thou mayst answer what more I have to say. Would 
not this pile look the better of a cross upon every tower 1 ” 

“ Thy zeal, my son, I commend, and thy question strictly 
hath but one answer,” Olmedo replied. “The impulse, 
moreover, is to do at once what thou hast suggested. EoU 
away a stone, and in its bed plant a rose, and the blooming 
will be never so sweet ; and so, never looketh the cross so 


ALVARADO FINDS THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 285 




beautiful as when it taketh the place of an idol And for the 
conversion of heathen, the Holy Mother careth not if the 
worship be under Christian dome or in pagan chamber.” 

“ Say’st thou so ! ” said Cortes, checking his horse. “ By 
my conscience, I will order a cross ! ” 

“ Be not so fast, I pray you. What armed hand now 
putteth up, armed hand must keep ; and that is war. May 
not the good end be reached without such resort ? In my 
judgment we should first consult the heathen king. How 
k no west thou that he is not already inclined to Christian 
ways 1 Let us ask him.” 

Cortes relaxed the rein, and rode on convinced. 

Through the gate of the coatapantli, amid much din and 
clangor, the entire column entered the yard of the temple. 
On a pavement, glassy-smooth, and spotless as a good house- 
wife's floor, the horsemen dismounted, and the footmen stood 
at rest. Then Cortes, with his captains and Marina, ap- 
proached the steps, where he was received by some pabas, 
who offered to carry him to the azoteasy — a courtesy he 
declined with many protestations of thanks. 

At the top, under a green canopy, and surrounded by 
courtiers and attendants, Montezuma stood, in the robes of 
a priest, and with only his sceptre to indicate his royalty. 

“ You li 3 ,ve my welcome, Malinche. The ascent is weari- 
some. Where are the pabas whom I sent to assist you ? ” 

The monarch's simple dignity affected his visitors, Cortes 
as much as the others. 

“ I accept thy welcome, good king,” he replied, after the 
interpretation. “ Assure thyself that it is given to a friend. 
The priests proffered their service as you directed ; they said 
your custom was to be carried up the steps, which I grant 
accords with a sovereign, but not with a warrior, who should 
be superior to fatigue.” 

To favor a view of the city, which was after a while sug* 


^ 286 


THE FAIR GOD. 


gested, the king conducted Cortes to the southern side of 
the azoteas, where were also presented a great part of the lake, 
bordered with white towns, and the valley stretching away 
to the purple sierras. The 'train followed them with mats and 
stools, and erected the canopy to intercept the sun; and 
thus at ease, the host explained, and the guest listened. 
Often, during the descriptions, the monarch’s eyes rested 
wistfully on his auditor’s face ; what he sought, we can 
imagine; but well I ween there was more revelation in a 
cloudy sky than in that bloodless countenance. The de- 
meanor of the Spaniard was courtierly ; he failed not to 
follow every gesture of the royal hand ; and if the meaning 
of what he heard was lost because of the strange language, 
the voice was not. In the low, sad intonations, unmarked by 
positive emphasis, he divined more than the speaker read 
in his face, — a soul goodly in all but its irresolution. If 
now and then the grave attention relaxed, or the eye wan- 
dered from the point indicated, it was because the city 
and lake, and the valley to the mountains, were, in the 
visitor’s mind, more a military problem than a picture of 
power or beauty. 

The interview was at length interrupted. Two great 
towers crowned the broad azoteas of the temple, one dedi- 
cated to Tezca’, the other to Huitzil’. Out of the door of 
the latter issued a procession of pabas, preceded by boys 
swinging censers, the smoke of which was sickening sweet. 
Tlalac, the teotiictli, came last, walking slowly, bareheaded, 
barefooted, his gown trailing behind him, its sleeves and 
front, like his hands and face, red with the blood of recent 
sacrifice. While the gloomy train gathered about the aston- 
ished Christians, the heathen pontiff, as if xmconscious of 
their presence, addressed himself to the king. His words 
were afterwards translated by Marina. 

“ To your application, 0 king, there is no answer. What 


ALVARADO FINDS THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 287 


you do will be of your own inspiration. The victims are 
removed ; the servants of the god, save whom you see, 
are in their cells. If such be thy will, the chamber is ready 
for the strangers.” 

Montezuma sat a moment hesitant, his color coming and 
going ; then, feeling the gaze of his guest upon him, he 
arose, and said kindly, but with dignity, “ It is well. I 
thank you.” Turning to Cortes, he continued, “ If you wiU 
go with me, Malinche, I will show you our god, and the 
place in which we celebrate his worship. I will explain our 
religion, and you may explain yours. Only give me respect 
for respect.” 

Bowing low, Cortes replied, “ I will go with thee, and 
thou shalt suffer no wrong from the confidence. The hand 
or tongue that doeth grievance to anything pertaining to thy 
god or his worship shall repeat it never.” The last sentence 
was spoken with a raised voice, and a glance to the captains 
around ; then, observing the frowns with which some of 
them received the notice, he added, almost without a pause, 
to Olmedo, What saith the Church of Christ 1 ” 

“ That thou hast spoken well, for this time,” answered 
the priest, kissing the crucifix chained to his girdle. “ Go 
on. I will go with thee.” 

Then they followed the king into the sanctuary, leaving 
the teotuctli and his train on the azoteas. 

I turn gladly from that horrible chamber. With quite as 
much satisfaction, I turn from the conversation of the king 
and Cortes. Not even the sweet voice of Marina could 
make the Aztec theogony clear, or the Catholic commentary 
of the Spaniard interesting. 

Alvarado approached the turret door with loathing. Stag- 
gered by the stench that smote him from within, he stopped 
a moment. Orteguilla, the page, pulled his mantle, and 
said, “ I have news for thea Wilt thou hear 1 ” 


288 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ Picaro ! To-morrow, if the Mother doth spare me so 
long, I will give thee a lash for every breath of this sin-laden 
air thou makest me dra'vy with open mouth. As thou lovest 
life, speak, and have done ! ” 

What if I bring thee a message of love 1 ” 

If thou couldst bring me such a message from a comely 
Christian maiden, I would kiss thee, lad.” 

Orteguilla held out an exquisite ramillete. ** Seest thou 
this 1 If thou carest and wilt follow me, I will show thee 
an infidel to swear by forever.” 

Give me the flowers, and lead me to the infidel. If 
thou speakest truly, thy fortune is made; if thou liest, I 
wiU fling thee from the temple.” 

He turned from the door, and was conducted to the shade 
of the turret of Tezca’. 

I was loitering after the tall priest, the one with the 
bloody face and hands, — what a monster he is ! ” said the 
page, crossing himself, — “ when a slave came in my way, 
offering some flowers, and making signs. I spoke to him. 

* What do you want 1 ’ * Here is a message from the prin- 

cess Henetzin.’ ‘Who is shel’ ‘Daughter of the great 
king.’ ‘ Well, what did she say ? ’ ‘ She bade me ’ — and, 

senor capitan, these are almost his words, — ‘ she bade me 
give these flowers to one of the teules, that he might give 
them to Tonatiak, him with the red beard.’ I took the pres- 
ent, and asked, ‘ What does the princess say to the Tonatiak V 
‘ Let him read the flowers,’ the fellow answered. I remem- 
bered then that it is a custom of this people to send mes- 
sages in that form. I asked him where his mistress was , 
he told me, and I went to see her.” 

“ What of her 1 Is she handsome 1 ” 

“ Here she is ; judge thou. ” 

“ Holy Mother ! ’T is the girl I so frightened on the 
street. She is the pearl of the valley, the light of the 


ALVARADO FINDS THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 289 


world ! ” exclaimed Alvarado. “ Stay thou, sir page. In- 
terpret for me. I will speak to her.” 

“ Simply, then. Thou knowest I am not so good an 
Aztec as Marina.” 

Nenetzin was sitting in the shade of the turret. Apart 
several paces stood her carriage-bearers. Her garments of 
finest cotton, white as snow, were held close to her waist by 
a green sash. Her ornaments — necklace, bracelets, and 
anklets — were of gold, enriched by chalchuites. Softest san- 
dals protected her feet j and the long scarf, heavy with em- 
broidery, and half covering her face, fell from her head to 
the mat of scarlet feathers upon which she was sitting. 

When the tall Spaniard, in full armor, except the helmet, 
stopped thus suddenly before her, the large eyes dilated, the 
blood left her cheeks, and she shrank almost to the roof. 
Was it not as if the dream, so strange in the coming, had 
vitalized its subject, and sent it to her, a Fate the more irre- 
sistible because of its peculiarities, — the blue eyes, the fore- 
head womanly white, the hair long and waving, the beard 
dyed, apparently, in the extremest brightness of the sun, — aU 
so unheard of among the brown and olive children of Ana- 
huac 1 And what if the Fate had come demandingly ? Ee- 
fuse ! Can the chrysalis, joyous in the beauty of wings 
just perfected, refuse the sun ? 

The cavalier could not mistake the look with which she 
regarded him. In pity for her fear, in admiration of her 
beauty, in the native gallantry of his soul, he knelt, and 
took her hand, and kissed it ; then, giving it back, and look- 
ing into her face with an expression as unmistakable as her 
own, he said, — 

“ My beautiful princess must not be afraid. I would die 
sooner than harm her.” 

While the page interpreted, as best he could, the captain 
smiled so winsomely that she sat up, and listened with a 
13 • 


290 


THE FAIR GOD. 
_i 


smile in return. She was won, and shall we say losti 
The future comes rapidly now to answer for itself. 

“ Here is the message,” Alvarado continued. “ which I 
could not read ; hut if it meant to tell me of love, what 
better can I than give it back to tell the same story for 
mel” 

He kissed the flowers, and laid them before her. Picking 
them up, she said, with a laugh, “ Tonatiah is a poet, • — a 
god and a poet.” 

He heard the interpretation, and spoke again, without re- 
laxing his ardent gaze. 

“ Jesu Christo ! That one so beautiful should be an in- 
fidel ! She shall not he, — by the holy sepulchre, she shall 
not ! Here, lad, take off the chain which is about my neck. 
It hath an iron crucifix, the very same my mother — rested 
be her soul ! — gave me, with her blessing and prayer, what 
time I last bade her farewell.” 

Orteguilla took off the chain and crucifix, and put them 
in the cavalier’s hand. 

“ Will my beautiful princess deign to receive these gifts 
from me, her slave forever % And in my presence will she 
put them on 1 And for my sake, will she always wear them 1 
They have God’s blessing, which cannot be better bestowed.” 

Instead of laying the presents down to he taken or not, this 
time he held them out to her directly ; and she took them, and, 
childlike, hung them around her neck. In the act, the scarf 
fell, and left bare her head and face. He saw the glowing 
countenance, and was about to speak further, when Orteguilla 
stopped him. 

“ Moderate thyself, I pray thee, Don Pedro. Look at the 
hoimds ; they are closing us in. The way to the turret is 
already cut off. Have a care, I pray ! ” 

The tone of alarm had instant effect. 

“ How ! Cut off, say’st thou, lad 1 ” And Alvarado 


THE IRON CROSS. 


291 


sprang up, his hand upon his sword. He swept the circle 
with a falcon’s glance ; then turning once more to the girl, 
he said, resuming the tenderness of voice and manner, “ By 
what name may I know my love hereafter 1 ” 

“ Henetzin, — the princess Nenetzin.” 

“ Then farewell, Henetzin. Ill betide the man or fortune 
that keepeth thee from me hereafter ! May I forfeit life, and 
the Holy Mother’s love, if I see thee not again ! Farewell.” 

He kissed his mailed hand to her, and, facing the array of 
scowling pabas, strode to them, and through their circle, 
with a laugh of knightly scorn. 

At the door of the turret of Huitzil’ he said to the page, 
“ The love of yon girl, heathen no longer, but Christian, by 
the cross she weareth, — her love, and the brightness of her 
presence, for the foulness and sin of this devil’s den, — what 
an exchange ! Valgarm Dios / Thou shalt have the ducat. 
She is the glory of the world ! ” 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE IRON CROSS. 

« ny JTY lord Maxtla, go see if there he none coming this 
JLVJL way now.” 

And while the chief touched the ground with his palm, 
the king added, as to himself, and impatiently, “ Surely it is 
time.” 

“ Of whom speak you ? ” asked Cuitlahua, standing by. 
Only the brother would have so presumed. 

The monarch looked into the branches of the cypress-tree 
above him ; he seemed holding the words in ear, while he 
followed a thought. 


292 


THE FAIR GOD. 


They were in the grove of Chapultepec at the time. About 
them were the famous trees, apparently old as the hill itself, 
with trunks so massive that they had likeness to things of 
cunning labor, products of some divine art. The sun touched 
them here and there with slanting yellow rays, by contrast 
deepening the shadows that purpled the air. From the 
gnarled limbs the gray moss drooped, like listless drapery. 
Nesting birds sang from the topmost boughs, and parrots, 
flitting to and fro, lit the gloaming with transient gleams of 
scarlet and gold : yet the effect of the place was mysterious ; 
the hush of the solitude softened reflection into dreaming ; 
the silence was a solemn presence in which speech sunk to a 
whisper, and laughter would have been profanation. In such 
primeval temples men walk with Time, as in paradise Adam 
walked with God. 

“ I am waiting for the lord Hualpa,” the king at last re- 
plied, turning his sad eyes to his brother’s face. 

“ Hualpa ! ” said Cuitlahua, marvelling, as well he might, 
to find the great king waiting for the merchant’s son, so lately 
a simple hunter. 

“Yes. He serves me in an affair of importance. His ap- 
pointment was for noon ; he tarries, I fear, in the city. Next 
time I will choose an older messenger.” 

The manner of the explanation was that of one who has 
in mind something of which he desires to speak, yet doubts 
the wisdom of speaking. So the cacique seemed to under- 
stand, for he relapsed into silence, while the monarch again 
looked upwards. Was the object he studied in the sky or in 
his heart % 

Maxtla returned ; saluting, he said, “ The lake is thronged 
with canoes, 0 king, but none come this way.” 

The sadness of the royal face deepened. 

“ Montezuma, my brother,” said Cuitlahua. 

“WeU.” 


THE IRON CROSS. 


293 


Give me a moment’s audience.” 

“ Certainly. The laggard comes not ; the rest of the day 
' is yours.” And to Maxtla he said, “ In the palace are the 
queens, and the princesses Tula and Nenetzin. Inform them 
that I am coming.” 

When the chief was gone, the monarch turned to Cui- 
tlahua, smiling : “ Yes, the rest of the day is yours, and the 
night also ; for I must wait for the merchant’s son ; and our 
mother, were she here, would say it was good of you to share 
my waiting.” 

The pleasantry and the tender allusion were hardly ob- 
served by the cacique. “ I wished to call your attention to 
Iztlil’, the Tezcucan,” he said, gravely. 

“ Iztlil’ ? what of him now % ” 

Trouble. What else can come of him ] Last night at 
the house of Xoli, the Chalcan, he drank too much pulque^ 
quarrelled with the good man’s guests, and abused everybody 
loyal, — abused you, my brother. I sent a servant to watch 
him. You must know — if not, you should — that all 
Tenochtitlan believes the Tezcucan to be in alliance with 
Malinche and his robbers.” 

“ Robbers ! ” said Montezuma, starting. 

The cacique went on. “ That he has corresponded with 
the Tlascalans is well understood. Only last night he 
spoke of a confederacy of tribes and cities to overturn the 
Empire.” 

‘‘ Goes he so far ? ” exclaimed the king, now very atten- 
tive. 

He is a traitor ! ” replied Cuitlahua, emphatically. “ So 
I sent a servant to follow him. From the Chalcan’s, he was 
seen go to the gates of the palace of Axaya’. Malinche re- 
ceived him. He is there now.” 

The two were silent awhile, the cacique observing the 
king, the king gazing upon the ground. 


294 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ Well,” said the latter, at length, “ is that all ? ” 

“ Is it not enough ? ” 

“ You are right. He must be arrested. Keep close watch 
on the gates of the palace, and upon his coming out, seize 
him, and put him safely away in the temple.” 

“ But if he comes not out 1 ” 

“ To-morrow, at noon, if he be yet within, go to Malinche 
and demand him. Here is your authority.” 

At that, the monarch took from a finger of his left hand a 
ring of gold, set with an oval green malachite, on which his 
likeness was exquisitely cut. 

“ But,” said the other, while the royal hand was out- 
stretched, “ if Malinche refuses your demand ? ” 

“ Then — then — ” And the speaker paused so long that 
his indecision was apparent. 

“ Behind the refusal, — see you what lies there 'i ” asked 
Cuitlahua, bluntly. 

The king reflected. 

Is it not war 1 ” the cacique persisted. 

The hand fell down, and closed upon the signet. 

“ The demand is just, and will not be refused. Take the 
ring, my brother ; we will at least test Malinche’s disposi- 
tion. Say to him that the lord Iztlil’ is a traitor ; that he 
is conspiring against me ; and that I require his person for 
punishment. So say to him ; but go not yet. The messen- 
ger I await may bring me something to make your mission 
unnecessary.” 

The cacique smiled grimly. “ If the Tezcucan is guilty, 
so is Malinche,” he said. “ Is it well to teU him what you 
know ] ” 

“ Yes. He will then he careful ; at least, he will not be 
deceived.” 

“ Be it so,” said Cuitlahua, taking the ring. “ I will bring 
you his answer ; then — ” 


THE IRON CROSS. 


295 


^‘Welir' 

“ Bear with me, 0 king. The subject I now wish to speak 
of is a tender one, though I know not why. To win the 
good-will of the Tezcucan, was not Guatamozin, our nephew, 

banished the city ] ” 

» Well 1 ” 

^N'ow that the Tezcucan is lost, why should not the ’tzin 
return 1 He is a happy man, 0 my brother, who discovers 
an enemy ; happier is he who, at the same time, discovers a 
friend.” 

Montezuma studied the cacique’s face, then, with his eyes 
upon the ground, walked on. Cuitlahua went with him. 
Past the great trees, under the gray moss, up the hill to the 
summit, and along the summit to the verge of the rocky 
bluff, they went. At the king’s side, when he stopped, was 
a porphyritic rock, hearing, in bas-relief, his own image, and 
that of his father. Below him, westwardly, spread the placid 
lake ; above it, the setting sun ; in its midst, a fair child on 
a fair mother’s breast, Tenochtitlan. 

“ See ! a canoe goes swiftly round yon chinampa ; now it 
outstrips its neighbors, and turns this way. How the slaves 
bend to the paddles ! My laggards at last ! ” 

The king, while speaking, rubbed his hands gleefully. 
For the time, Cuitlahua and his question were forgotten. 

“ The lord Hualpa has company,” observed the brother, 
quietly. 

» Yes. lo’.” 

Another spell of silence, during which both watched the 
canoe. 

“ Come, let us to the palace. Lingering here is useless.” 
And with another look to the city and lake, and a last one 
at the speeding vessel, yet too far off to be identified, the 
king finally turned away. And Guatamozin was still an 
exile. 


296 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Tecalco and Acatlan, the queens, and Tula, and their at- 
tendants, sitting on the azoteas of the ancient house, taking 
the air of the declining day, arose to salute the monarch and 
his brother. The latter took the hand of each, saying, “ The 
gods of our fathers be good to you.” Tula’s forehead he 
touched with his lips. His countenance, like his figure and 
nature, Indian in type, softened somewhat under her glance. 
He knew her sorrow, and in sympathy thought of the ’tzin, 
and of the petition in his behalf, as yet unanswered. 

“ All are not here, one is absent, — ]!lenetzin. Where is 
she ] I may not sleep well without hearing her laugh once 
more.” 

Acatlan said, You are very good, my lord, to remember 
my child. She chose to remain below.” 

“ She is not sick, I hope.” 

“ Hot sick, yet not well.” 

Ah ! the trouble is of the mind, perhaps. How old is 
she now.” 

Old enough to be in love, if that is your meaning.” 

Cuitlahua smiled. “ That is not a sickness, but a happi- 
ness ; so, at least, the minstrels say.” 

“ What ails Henetzin 1 ” asked the king. 

Acatlan cast down her eyes, and hesitated. 

“ Speak ! What ails her 1 ” 

“ I hardly know. She hardly knows herself,” the queen 
answered. “ If I am to believe what she tells me, the lord 
Cuitlahua is right ; she is in love.” 

“ With Tula, I suppose,” said the king, laughing. 

‘‘ Would it were ! She says her lover is called Tonatiah. 
Much I fear, however, that what she thinks love is really 
a delusion, wrought by magic. She is not herself. When 
did Malinche go to the temple 1 ” 

“ Four days ago,” the king replied. 

Well, the teule met her there, and spoke to her, and gave 


THE IRON CROSS. 


297 


her a present. Since that, like a child, she has done little 
else than play with the trinket.” 

Montezuma became interested. He seated himself, and 
asked, “ You said the spell proceeds from the present : why 
do you think so 1 ” 

“The giver said the gift was a symbol of his religion, and 
whoever wore it became of his faith, and belonged to his god.” 

“ Mictlan ! ” muttered Cuitlahua. 

“ Strange ! what is the thing ? ” the king persisted. 

“ Something of unknown metal, white, like silver, about a 
hand in length, and attached to a chain.” 

“ Of unknown metal, — a symbol of religion ! Where is 
the marvel now 1 ” 

“ Around the child’s neck, where I believe it has been 
since she came from the temple. Once she allowed me to 
see if I could tell what the metal was, but only for a mo- 
ment, and then her eyes never quit me. She sits hours by 
herself, with the bauble clasped in both hands, and sighs, and 
mopes, and has no interest in what used to please her most.” 

The king mused awhile. The power of the strangers was 
very great ; what if the gift was the secret of the power ? 

“ Go, Acatlan,” he said, “ and call ^N’enetzin. See that she 
brings the charm with her.” 

Then he arose, and began moodily to walk. Cuitlahua 
talked with Tecalco and Tula. The hour was very pleasant. 
The sun, lingering above the horizon, poured a flood of bril- 
liance upon the hill and palace, and over the flowers, trailing 
vines, and dwarfed palm and banana trees, with which the 
azoteas was provided. 

Upon the return of the queen with Nenetzin, the king 
resumed his seat. The girl knelt before him, her face very 
pale, her eyes fulT^ of tears. So lately a child, scarce a 
woman, yet so weighted with womanly griefs, the father 
could not view her except with compassion ; so he raised 
13 * 


298 


THE FAIR GOD. 


her, and, holding her hand, said, *‘What is this I hear, 
Nenetzin] Yesterday I was thinking of sending you to 
school. Nowadays lovers are very exacting ; they require 
of their sweethearts knowledge as well as beauty ; hut you 
outrun my plans, you have a lover already. Is it so 1 ” 

Nenetzin looked down, blushing. 

‘^And no common lover either,” continued the king. 
“ Not a ’tzin, or a cacique, or a governor ; not a lord or a 
prince, — a god ! Brave child ! ” 

Still Nenetzin was silent. 

“ You cannot call your lover by name, nor speak to him 
in his language ; nor can he speak to you in yours. Talking 
by signs must be tedious for the uses of love, which I 
understand to be but another name for impatience ; yet you 
are f^ advanced ; you have seen your beloved, talked with 
him, and received — what ? ” 

Nenetzin clasped the iron cross upon her breast firmly, — 
not as a good Catholic, seeking its protection ; for she would 
have laid the same hands on Alvarado rather than Christ, — 
and for the first time she looked in the questioner’s face 
straight and fearlessly. A moment he regarded her ; in the 
moment his smile faded away ; and for her it came never 
again — never. 

“ Give me what you have there,” he said sternly, extend- 
ing his hand. 

“ It is but a simple present,” she said, holding back. 

“ No, it has to do with religion, and that not of our 
fathers.” 

“ It is mine,” she persisted, and the queen mother turned 
pale at sight of her firmness. 

The child is bewitched,” interposed Cuitlahua. 

“ And for that I should have the symbol. Obey me, or — ” 

Awed by the look, now dark with anger, Nenetzin took 
the chain from her neck, and put the cross in his hand. 
“ There ! I pray you, return them to me.” 


THE CHRISTIANS IN THE TOILS. 


299 


Now, the cross, as a religious symbol, was not new to the 
monarch ; in Cozumel it was an object of worship ; in Ta- 
basco it had been reverenced for ages as emblematic of the 
God of Eain ; in Palenque, the Palmyra of the New World, 
it is sculptured on the fadeless walls, and a child held up to 
adore it (in the same picture) proves its holy character ; it 
was not new to the heathen king ; but the cross of Christ 
was ; and singularly enough, he received the latter for the 
first time with no thought of saving virtues, but as a problem 
in metallurgy. 

“ To-morrow I will send the trinkets to the jewellers,” he 
said, after close examination. “ They shall try them in the 
fire. Strange, indeed, if, in all my dominions, they do not 
find whereof they are made.” 

He was about to pass the symbol to Maxtla, when a mes- 
senger came up, and announced the lord Hualpa and the 
prince lo’. Instantly, the cross, and Nenetzin, and her tears 
and troubles, vanished out of his mind. 


CHAPTER VIL 

THE CHRISTIANS IN THE TOILS. 

“T" ET the azoteas be cleared of aU but my family. You, 

I J my brother, wiU remain.” 

So saying, the king arose, and began walking again. As 
he did so, the cross slipped from his fingers, and fell, ringing 
sharply upon the roof. Nenetzin sprang forward and picked 
the symbol up. 

Now, call the messengers.” 

When the chief was gone, the monarch stepped to Cui- 
tlahua, and, laying a hand upon his arm, said, “ At last, O 


300 


THE FAIR GOD. 


brother, at last ! The time so long prayed for is come. The 
enemy is in the snare, and he is mine. So the god of our 
fathers has promised. The messengers bring me his permis- 
sion to make war.” 

‘‘ At last ! Praised be Huitzil’ ! ” exclaimed Cuitlahua, 
with upraised hands and eyes. 

“ Praised be Huitzil’ ! ” cried Tula, with equal fervor. 

“ Malinche began his march to Tenochtitlan against my 
order, which, for a purpose, I afterwards changed to invita- 
tion. Since that, my people, my army, the lords, the pabas, 
the Empire, have upbraided me for weakness. I only bided 
my time, and the assent of Huitzil’. And the result % The 
palace of Axaya’ shall be the tomb of the insolent strangers.” 

As he spoke, the monarch’s bosom swelled with the old 
warrior spirit. 

“ You would have had me go meet Malinche, and in the 
open field array my people to be trodden down by his beasts 
of war. How, ours is the advantage. We will shut him in 
with walls of men as well as of houses. Over them he may 
ride, but the first bridge Avill be the end of his journey; 
it will be raised. Mictlan take our legions, if '’"unot 



conquer him at last ! ” 

He laughed scornfully. 

“ In the temples are seventy thousand fighting men, gath- 
ered unknown to all but Tlalac. They are tired of their 
prison, and cry for freedom and battle. Two other measures 
taken, and the war begins, — only two. Malinche has no 
stores ; he is dependent upon me for to-morrow’s bread. 
What if I say, not a grain of corn, not a mouthful of meat 
shall pass his palace gate ] As to the other step, — what if 
I bid you raise the bridges 1 What then ? His beasts must 
starve ; so must his people, unless they can fly. Let him 
use his engines of fire ; the material he serves them with 
cannot last always, so that want wiU silence them also. The 


THE CHRISTIANS IN THE TOILS. 


301 


measures depend on my word, which, by the blessing of Huit- 
ziF, I will speak, and ” — 

“ When 1 ” asked Cuitlahua, earnestly. 

“ To-morrow — ” 

“ The day, — 0 my kingly brother ! — the day will be 
memorable in Anahuac forever ! ” 

The monarch’s eyes flashed with evil fire. “ It shall be 
so. Part of the invaders will not content me ; none shall 
escape, — not one ! In the world shall not one be left ! ” 

All present listened eagerly. JSTenetzin alone gave no sign 
of feeling, though she heard every word. 

The couriers now appeared. Over their uniforms was the 
inevitable nequen. Instead of helms, they wore broad bands, 
ornamented with plumes and brilliants. At their backs hung 
their shields. The prince, proud and happy, kissed his 
mother’s hand, and nodded to the sisters. Hualj^a went to 
the king, and knelt in salute. 

“ I have been waiting since noon,” said Montezuma, coldly. 

“We pray your pardon, 0 king, good master. The fault 
was not ours. Since yesterday at noon we have not ate or 
drank or slept ; neither have we been out of the great temple, 
except to embark and come here, which was with aU possible 
speed.” 

“ It is well. Arise ! What says the god 1 ” 

Every ear was strained to hear. 

“We followed your orders in all things, 0 king. In the 
temple we found the teotuctli, and the pabas of the city, 
with many from Tezcuco and Cholula.” 

“ Saw you Mualox, of the old Cu of Quetzal’ 1 ” 

“ Mualox was not there.” 

The king waved his hand. 

“We presented ourselves to the teotuctli, and gave him your 
message ; in proof of our authority, we showed him the sig- 
net, which we now return.” 


302 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The seal was taken in silence. 

“ In presence, then, of all the pabas, the sacrifices were 
begun. I counted the victims, — nine hundred in alL The 
afternoon and night, and to-day, to the time of our departure, 
the service lasted. The sound of prayer from the holy men 
was unintermitted and loud. I looked once to the palace of 
Axaya’, and saw the azoteas crowded with the strangers and 
their Tlascalans.” 

The king and the lord Cuitlahua exchanged glances of 
satisfaction. 

“ At last the labors of the teotuctli were rewarded. I saw 
him tear a heart from a victim’s breast, and study the signs ; 
then, with a loud cry, he ran and flung the heart into the fire 
before the altar of Huitzil’ ; and all there joined in the cry, 
which was of rejoicing, and washed their hands in the blood. 
The holy man then came to me, and said, ‘ Say to Montezuma, 
the wise king, that Huitzil’, the Supreme God, has answered, 
and bids him begin the war. Say to him, also, to be of 
cheer ; for the land shall be delivered from the strangers, and 
the strangers shall be delivered to him, in trust for the god. 
Then he stood in the door of the sanctuary, and made procla- 
mation of the divine will. And that was all, 0 king.” 

“ To Huitzil’ be the praise ! ” exclaimed the king, piously. 

“ And to Montezuma the glory ! ” said Cuitlahua. 

And the queens and Tula' kissed the monarch’s hand, and 
at his feet lo’ knelt, and laid his shield, saying, — 

“ A favor, 0 king, a favor 1 ” 

« Well.” 

Let not my years be counted, but give me a warrior’s 
part in the sacred war.” 

And Cuitlahua went to the suppliant, and laid a hand 
upon his head, and said, his massive features glowing with 
honest pride, “ It was well spoken, 0 my brother, well spO' 
ken. The blood and spirit of our race will survive us. I, 


THE CHRISTIANS IN THE TOILS. 


303 


fhe oldest, rejoice, and, with the youngest, pray ; give us 
each to do a warrior’s part.” 

Brighter grew the monarch’s eyes. 

“Your will be done,” he said to lo’. “Arise!” Then 
looking toward the sun, he added, with majestic fervor, “ The 
inspiration is from you, 0 holy gods ! strengthen it, I pray, 
and help him in the way he would go.” A moment after, he 
turned to Cuitlahua, “ My brother, have your wish also. I 
give you the command. You have my signet already. To- 
morrow the drum of Huitzil’ will he beaten. At the sound, 
let the bridges next the palace of Axaya’ on all the cause- 
ways be taken up. Close the market to-night. Supplies for 
one day more Mahnche may have, and that is all. Around 
the teocallis, in hearing of a shell, are ten thousand warriors ; 
take them, and, after the beating of the drum, see that the 
strangers come not out of the palace, and that nothing goes 
through its gates for them. But until the signal, let there 
be friendship and perfect peace. And — he looked around 
slowly and solemnly — “ what I have here spoken is between 
ourselves and the gods.” 

And Cuitlahua knelt and kissed his hand, in token of 
loyalty. 

While the scene was passing, as the only one present not 
of the royal family, Hualpa stood by, with downcast eyes ; 
and as he listened to the brave words of the king, involving 
so much of weal or woe to the realm, he wondered at the 
fortune which had brought him such rich confidence, not as 
the slow result of years of service, but, as it were, in a day. 
Suddenly, the monarch turned to him. 

“Thanks are not enough, lord Hualpa, for the report 
you bring. As a messenger between me and the mighty 
Huitzil’, you shall have reason to rejoice with us. Lands 
and rank you have, and a palace ; now,'” — a smile broke 
through his seriousness, — “ now I will give you a wife. Here 


304 


THE FAIR GOD. 


she is.” And to the amazement of all, he pointed to Nenet- 
zin. A wild bird, by the Sun ! What say you, lord 
Hualpa 1 Is she not beautiful ? Yet,” he became grave in 
an instant, I warn you that she is self-willed, and spoiled, 
and now suffers from a distemper which she fancies to be 
love. I warn you, lest one of the enemy, of whom we were 
but now talking, lure her from you, as he seems to have lured 
her from us and our gods. To save her, and place her in 
good keeping, as well as to bestow a proper reward, I will 
give her to you for wife.” 

Tecalco looked at Acatlan, who governed her feelings 
well ; possibly she was satisfied, for the waywardness of the 
girl had, of late, caused her anxiety, while, if not a prince, 
like Cacama, Hualpa was young, brave, handsome, ennobled, 
and, as the proposal itself proved, on the high road to 
princely honors. Tula openly rejoiced ; so did lo’. The 
lord Cuitlahua was indifferent ; his new command, and the 
prospects of the morrow, so absorbed him that a betrothal or 
a wedding was a trifle. As for Hualpa, it was as if the 
flowery land of the Aztec heaven had opened around him. 
He was speechless ; but in the step half taken, his flushed 
face, his quick breathing, Nenetzin read all he could have 
said, and more ; and so he waited a sign from her, — a sign, 
though but a glance or a motion of the lip or hand. And 
she gave him a smile, — not like that the bold Spaniard 
received on the temple, nor warm, as if prompted by the 
loving soul, — a smile, witnessed by all present, and by all 
accepted as her expression of assent. 

“ I will give her to you for wife,” the monarch repeated, 
slowly and distinctly. “ This is the betrothal ; the wedding 
shall be when the war is over, when not a ^vhite-faced 
stranger is left in all my domain.” 

While yet he spoke, Henetzin ran to her mother, and hid 
her face in her bosom. 


THE CHRISTIANS IN THE TOILS. 


305 


“ Listen further, lord Hualpa,” said the king. “ In the 
great business of to-morrow I give you a part. At daylight 
return to the temple, and remain there in the turret where 
hangs the drum of Huitzil’. lo’ will come to you about 
noon, with my command ; then, if such be its effect, with 
your own hand give the signal for which the lord Cuitlahua 
will be waiting. Strike so as to be heard by the city, and 
by the cities on the shores of the lake. Afterwards, with 
lo’, go to the lord Cuitlahua. Here is the signet again. 
The teotuctli may want proof of your authority.” 

Hualpa, kneeling to receive the seal, kissed the monarch’s 
hand. 

“ And now,” the latter said, addressing himself to Cuitla- 
hua, “ the interview is ended. You have much to do. Go. 
The gods keep you.” 

Hualpa, at last released, went and paid homage to his 
betrothed, and was made still more happy by her words, and 
the congratulations of the queens. 

Tula alone lingered at the king’s side, her large eyes fixed 
appealingly on his face. 

“ What now, Tula ? ” he asked, tenderly. 

And she answered, “You have need, 0 king and good 
father, of faithful, loving warriors. I know of one. He 
should be here, but is not. Of to-morrow, its braveries and 
sacrifices, the minstrels will sing for ages to come ; and the 
burden of their songs will be how nobly the people fought, 
and died, and conquered for you. Shall the opportunity be 
for all but him 1 Do not so wrong yourself, be not*so cruel 
to — to me,” she said, clasping her hands. 

His look of tenderness vanished, and he walked away, and 
from thS parapet of the azoteas gazed long and fixedly, ap- 
parently observing the day dying in the west, or the royal 
gardens that stretched out of sight from the base of the cas- 
tled hiU. 

T 


306 


THE FAIR GOD. 


She waited expectantly, but no answer came, — none ever 
came. 

And when, directly, she joined the group about Nenetzin 
and Hualpa, and leaned confidingly upon lo’, she little 
thought that his was the shadow darkening her love ; that 
the dreamy monarch, looking forward to the succession, saw, 
in the far future, a struggle for the crown between the prince 
and the ’tzin ; that for the former hope there was not, except 
in what might now be done ; and that yet there was not hope, 
if the opportunities of war were as open to the one as to the 
other. So the exile continued. 


CHAPTEE VIII. 


THE IRON CROSS COMES BACK TO ITS GIVER. 

EMITTING that the intent with which the Span- 



iards came to Tenochtitlan took from them the sanc- 


tity accorded by Christians to guests, and at the same time 


justified any measure in prevention, — a subject belonging 
to the casuist rather than the teller of a story, — their situa- 
tion has now become so perilous, and possibly so interesting 
to my sympathetic reader, that he may be anxious to enter 
the old palace, and see what they are doing. 

The dull report of the evening gun had long since spent 
itself (fver the lake, and along the gardened shores. So, too, 
mass had been said in the chapel, newly improvised, and 
very limited for such high ceremony ; yet, as Father Barto- 
lom4 observed, roomy enough for prayer and penitence. 
Nor had the usual precautions against surprise been omitted ; 
on the contrary, extra devices in that way had been resorted 
to ; the guards had been doubled ; the horses stood capari- 


' THE lEON CROSS COMES BACK TO ITS GIVER. 307 


soned ; by the guns at the gates low fires were burning, to 
light, in an instant, the matches of the gunners ; and at in- 
tervals, under cover of the walls, lay or lounged detachments 
of both Christians and Tlascalans, apparently told off for 
battle. A yell without or a shot within, and the palace 
would bristle with defenders. A careful captain was Cortes. 

In his room, once the audience- chamber of the kings, 
paced the stout conquistador. He was alone, and, as usual, 
in armor, except of the head and hands. On a table were 
his helm, iron gloves, and battle-axe, fair to view, as was the 
chamber, in the cheerful, ruddy light of a brazen lamp. As 
he walked, he used his sword for staff ; and its clang, joined 
to the sharp concussion of the sollerets smiting the tessellated 
floor at each step, gave notice in the adjoining chamber, and 
out in the patio, that the general — or, as he was more famil- 
iarly called, the Se^or Hernan — was awake and uncom- 
monly restless. After a while the curtains of the doorway 
parted, and Father Bartolom6 entered without challenge. 
The good man was clad in a cassock of black serge, much 
frayed, and girt to the waist by a leathern belt, to which 
hung an ivory cross, and a string of amber beads. At sight 
of him, Cortes halted, and, leaning on his sword, said, “ Bring 
thy bones here, father ; or, if such womanly habit suit thee 
better, rest them on the settle yonder. Anyhow, thou’rt 
welcome. I assure thee of the fact in advance of thy re- 
port.” 

“ Thank thee, Sehor,” he replied. “ The cross, as thou 
mayst have heard, is proverbially heavy ; but its weight is 
to the spirit, not the body, like the iron with which thou 
keep’st thyself so constantly clothed. I will come and stand 
by thee, jsspecially as my words must be few, and to our own 
ears.” 

He went near, and continued in a low voice, and rapidly, 
“ A deputation, appointed to confer with thee, is now com- 


308 


THE FAIR GOD. 


ing. I sounded the men. I told them our condition ; how 
we are enclosed in the city, dependent upon an inconstant 
king for bread, without hope of succor, without a road of 
retreat. Following thy direction, I drew the picture darkly. 
Very soon they began asking, ‘ What think’st thou ought to 
he done 1 ’ As agreed between us, I suggested the seizure of 
Montezuma. They adopted the idea instantly ; and, that no 
consideration like personal affection for the king may influ- 
ence thee to reject the proposal, the deputation cometh, with 
Diaz del Castillo at the head.” 

A gleam of humor twinkled in Cortes’s eyes. 

Art sure they do not suspect me as the author of the 
scheme ? ” 

‘‘ They will urge it earnestly as their own, and support it 
with arguments which ” — the father paused a moment — “I 
am sure thou wilt find irresistible.” 

Cortes raised himself from the sword, and indulged a laugh 
while he crossed the room and returned. 

thank thee, father,” he said, resuming his habitual 
gravity. So men are managed ; nothing more simple, if 
we do but know how. The project hath been in my mind 
since we left Tlascala ; but, as thou know’st, I feared it 
might be made of account against me with our imperial 
master. Now, it cometh back as business of urgency to 
the army, to which men think I cannot say nay. Let them 
come ; I am ready.” 

He began walking again, thumping the floor with his 
sword, while Olmedo took possession of a bench by the 
table. Presently, there was heard at the door the sound of 
many feet, which you may be sure were not those of slip- 
pered damsels ; for, at the bidding of Cortes, twelv® soldiers 
came in, followed by several officers, and after them yet 
other soldiers. The general went to the table and seated 
himself. They ranged themselves about him, standing. 


THE IRON CROSS COMES BACK TO ITS GIVER. 309 


And for a time the chamber went hack to its primitive 
use ; but what were the audiences of Axaya’ compared with 
this] Here was no painted cotton, or feather- work gaudy 
with the spoils of humming-birds and parrots : in their 
stead, the gleam and lustre blent with the brown of iron. 
One such Christian warrior was worth a hundred heathen 
chiefs. So thought Cortes, as he glanced at the faces before 
him, bearded, mustachioed, and shaded down to the eyes by 
well-worn morions. 

Good evening, gentlemen and soldiers,” he said, kindly, 
but without a bow. “ This hath the appearance of business.” 

Diaz advanced a step, and replied, — 

“ Senor, we are a deputation from the army, appointed to 
beg attention to a matter which to us looketh serious ; 
enough so, at least, to justify this appearance. We have 
been, and are, thy faictiful soldiers, in whom thou mayst 
trust to the death, as our conduct all the way from the coast 
doth certify. Nor do we come to complain; on that score 
be at rest. But we are men of experience ; a long campaign 
hath given us eyes to see and ability to consider a situation ; 
while we submit willingly to all thy orders, trusting in thy 
superior sense, we yet think thou wilt not take it badly, 
nor judge us wanting in discipline and respect, if we venture 
the opinion that, despite the courtesies and fair seeming of 
the unbelieving king, Montezuma, we are, in fact, cooped 
up in this strong city as in a cage.” 

I see the business already,” said Cortes ; “ and, by my 
conscience ! ye are welcome to help me consider it. Speak 
out, Bernal Diaz.” 

‘‘ Thank thee, Senor, The question in our minds is. What 
shall be done next? We know that but few things bearing 
anywdse upon our expedition escape thy eyes, and that of what 
is observed by thee nothing is forgotten ; therefore, what I 
wish, first, is to refer some points to thy memory. When 


310 


THE FAIR GOD. 


we left Cuba, we put ourselves in the keeping of the Holy 
Virgin, without any certain purpose. We believed there 
was in this direction somewhere a land peopled and full of 
gold for the finding. Of that we were assured when we set 
out from the coast to come here. And now that we are 
come, safe from so many dangers, and hardships, and battles, 
we think it no shame to admit that we were not prepared for 
what we find, so far doth the fact exceed all our imaginings ; 
neither can we be charged justly with weakness or fear, if 
we all desire to know whether the expedition is at an end, 
and whether the time hath arrived to collect our gains, and 
divide them, and set our faces homeward. There are in the 
army some who think that time come ; but I, and my asso- 
ciates here, are not of that opinion. We believe with Father 
Olmedo, that God and the Holy Mother brought us to this 
land, and that we are their instruments ; and that, in reward 
for our toils, and for setting up the cross in all these abom- 
inable temples, and bringing about the conversion of these 
heathen hordes, the country, and all that is in it, are 
ours.” 

“ They are ours ! ” cried Cortes, dashing his sword against 
the floor until the chamber rang. “ They are ours, all ours ; 
subject only to the wilj. of our master, the Emperor.” 

The latter words he said slowly, meaning that they should 
be remembered. 

“We are glad, Senor, to hear thy approval so heartily 
given,” Diaz resumed. “ If we are not mistaken in the 
opinion, and, following it up, decide to reduce the country to 
possession and the true belief, — something, I confess, not 
difficult to determine, since we have no ships in which to 
sail away, — then we think a plan of action should be adopt- 
ed immediately. If the reduction can be best effected from 
the city, let us abide here, by all means ; if not, the sooner 
we are beyond the dikes and bridges, and out of the valley. 


THE IRON CROSS COMES BACK TO ITS GIVER. 311 


the better. Whether we shall remain, Sehor, is for thee to 
say. The army hath simply chosen us to make a suggestion, 
which we hope thou wilt accept as its sense ; and that is, to 
seize the person of Montezuma, and bring him to these quar- 
ters, after which there will be no difficulty in providing for 
our wants and safety, and controlling, as may be best, the 
people, the city, the provinces, and all things else yet un- 
discovered. 

Jem Christo!” exclaimed Cortes, like one surprised. 
“ Whence got ye this idea % Much I fear the Devil is abroad 
again.” And he began to walk the floor, using long strides, 
and muttering to himself ; retaking his seat, he said, — 

“ The proposition hath a bold look, soldiers and comrades, 
and for our lives’ sake requireth careful thought. That we 
can govern the Empire through Montezuma, I have always 
held, and with that idea I marched you here, as the cavaliers 
now present can testify ; but the taking and holding him 
prisoner, — by my conscience ! ye out-travel me, and I must 
have time to think about the business. But, gentlemen,” — 
turning to the Captains Leon, Ordas, Sandoval, and Alvarado, 
who, as part of the delegation, had stationed themselves behind 
him, — “ ye have reflected upon the business, and are of made- 
up minds. Upon two points I would have your judgments : 
first, can we justify the seizure to his Majesty, the Emperor 1 
secondly, how is the arrest to be accomplished “I Speak 
thou, Sandoval.” 

“ As thou know’st, Senor Hernan, what I say must be 
said bluntly, and with little regard for qualifications,” San- 
doval replied, lisping. “To me the seizure is a neces-. 
sity, and as such justifiable to our royal master, himself 
so good a soldier. I have come to regard the heathen king 
as faithless, and therefore unworthy, except as an instrument 
in our hands. I cannot forget how we were cautioned 
against him in all’ the lower towns, and hov^, from all quar- 


312 


THE FAIR GOD. 


ters, we were assured he meant to follow the pretended in- 
structions of his god, allow us to enter the capital quietly, 
then fall upon us without notice and at disadvantage. And 
now that we are enclosed, he hath only to cut off our sup- 
plies of bread and water, and break down the bridges. So, 
Senor, I avouch that, in my opinion, there is but one ques- 
tion for consideration, — Shall we move against him, or wait 
until he is ready to move against us 1 I would rather sur- 
prise my enemy than be surprised by him.” 

“ And what sayest thou, Leon ? ” 

“ The good Captain Sandoval hath spoken for me, Senor. 
I would add, that some of us have to-day noticed that the 
king’s steward, besides being insolent, hath failed to supply 
our tables as formerly. And from Aguilar, the interpreter, 
who hath his news from the Tlascalans, I learn that the Mex- 
icans certainly have some evil plot in progress.” 

“And yet further, captain, say for me,” cried Alvarado, 
impetuously, “ that the prince now with us, his name — 
The fiend take his name ! ” 

“ Thou would’st say, the Prince of Tezcuco ; never mind 
his name,” Cortes said, gravely. 

“ Ay, never mind his name,” Olmedo repeated, with a 
scarce perceptible gleam of humor. “ At the baptism to- 
morrow I will give him something more Christian.” 

“ As ye will, as ye will ! ” Alvarado rejoined, impatiently. 
“ I was about to say, that the Tezcucan averreth most roundly 
that the yells we heard this afternoon from the temple over 
the way signified a grand utterance from the god of war ; and 
of opinion that we will now be soon attacked, he refuseth to 
go into the city again.” 

“ And thou, Ordas.” 

“ Senor,” that captain replied, “ I am in favor of the seiz- 
ure. If, as all believe, Montezuma is bent to make war upon 
us, the best way to meet the danger is to arrest him in time. 


THE IRON CROSS COMES BACK TO ITS GIVER. 313 


The question, simply stated, is, his liberty or our lives. 
Moreover, I want an end to the uncertainty that so vexeth 
us night arid day ; worse, by far, than any battle the heathen 
can olfer.” 

Cortes played with the knot of his sword, and reflected. 

“ Such, then, is the judgment of the army,” he finally 
said. “And such, gentlemen, is mine, also. But is that 
enough % What we do as matter of policy may be approved 
of man, even our imperial master, of whom I am always re' 
gardful ; but, as matter of conscience, the approval of Heaven 
must be looked for. Stand out. Father Bartolom^ ! Upon 
thy brow is the finger of St. Peter, at thy girdle the cross 
of Christ. What saith the Church ^ ” 

The good man arose, and held out the cross, saying, — 

“ My children, upon the Church, by Christ himself, this 
solemn hest hath been placed, good for all places, to be parted 
from never : * Go ye into all the world, and preach the gos- 
pel to every creature.’ The way hither hath been through 
strange seas and deadly climates. Hear me, that ye may 
know yourselves. Ye are the swords of the Church. In 
Cempoalla she preached ; so in Tlascala ; so in Cholula ; and 
in all, she cast out false gods, and converted whole tribes. 
Only in this city hath the gospel not been proclaimed. And 
why 'i Because of a king who to-day, almost in our view, 
sacrificed men to his idols. Swords of the Church, which 
go before to make smooth her path, Christ and the Holy 
Mother must be taught in yon temple of sin. So saith the 
Church ! ” 

There was much crossing of forehead and breast, and 
“ Amen,” and the sweet name “ Ave Maria ” sounded through 
the chamber, not in the murmur of a cathedral response, but 
outspokenly as became the swords of Christ. The sensation 
was hardly done, when some one at the door called loudly 
for Alvarado. 


14 


314 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ Who is he that so calleth 'I ” the captain asked, angrily. 
“ Let him choose another time.” 

The name was repeated more loudly. 

“ Tell the mouther to seek me to-morrow.” 

A third time the captain was called. 

“ May the Devil fly away with the fellow ! I will not 
go.” 

“ Bid the man enter,” said Cortes. • “ The disturbance is 
strange.” 

’ A soldier appeared, whom Alvarado, still angry, addressed, 
“ How now 1 Dost thou take me for a kitchen girl, appren- 
ticed to answer thee at all times 1 What hast thou ? Be 
brief. This goodly company waiteth.” 

“ I crave thy pardon, captain. I crave pardon of the 
company,” the soldier answered, saluting Cortes. “ I am on 
duty at the main gate. A little while ago, a woman — ” 

“ Picaro ! ” cried Alvarado, contemptuously. “ Only a 
woman ! ” 

“ Peace, captain ! Let the man proceed,” said Cortes, 
whose habit it was to hear his common soldiers gravely. 

“ As I was about saying, Sehor, a woman came running to 
the gate. She was challenged. I could not understand her, 
and she was much scared, for behind her on the street was 
a party that seemed to have been in pursuit. She cried, 
and pressed for admittance. My order is strict, — Admit no 
one after the evening gun. While I was trying to make her 
understand me, some arrows were shot by the party outside, 
and one passed through her arm. She then flung herself on 
the pavement, and gave me this cross, and said ‘ Tonatiah, 
Tonatiah ! ’ As that is what the people call thee, Sehor 
Alvarado, I judged she wanted it given to thee for some pur- 
pose. The shooting at her made me think that possibly the 
business might be of importance. If I am mistaken, 1 
again pray pardon. Here is the cross. Shall I admit the 
woman 1 ” 


A FORTUNATE MAN HATH A MEMORY. 


315 


Alvarado took the cross, and looked at it once. 

“ By the saints ! my mother’s gift to me, and mine to the 
princess Nenetzin.” Of the soldier he asked, in a suppressed 
voice, “ Is the woman old or young % ” 

“ A girl, little more than a child.” 

“ ’T is she ! Mother of Christ, ’t is Nenetzin ! ” 

And through the company, without apology, he rushed. 
The soldier saluted, and followed him. 

To the gate, Sandoval ! See the rest of this affair, and 
report,” said CorteS, quietly. ‘‘We will stay the business 
until you return.” 


CHAPTER IX. 

TRULY WONDERFUL. A FORTUNATE MAN HATH A MEMORY. 

T WO canoes, tied to the strand, attested that the royal 
party, and- lo’ and Hualpa, were yet at Chapultepec, 
which was no doubt as pleasant at night, seen of aU the 
stars, as in the day, kissed by the softest of tropical suns. 

That the lord Hualpa should linger there was most nat- 
ural. Raised, almost as one is transported in dreams, from 
hunting to warriorship ; from that again to riches and no- 
bility ; so lately contented, though at peril of life, to look 
from afar at the house in which the princess Xenetzin slept ; 
now her betrothed, and so pronounced by the great king 
himself, — what wonder that he loitered at the palace 1 Yet 
it was not late, — in fact, on the horizon still shone the tint, 
the last and faintest of the day, — when he and lo’ came out, 
and, arm in arm, took their way down the hill to the land- 
ing. What betides the lover h Is the mistress coy 1 Or 
runs he away at call of some grim duty ? 

Out of the high gate, down the terraced descent, past the 


316 


THE FAIR GOD. 


avenue of ghostly cypresses, until their sandals struck the 
white shells of the landing, they silently went. 

“ Is it not well with you, my brother ? ” asked the prince, 
stopping where the boats, in keeping of their crews, were 
lying. 

Thank you for that word,” Hualpa replied. “ It is 
better even than comrade. Well with mel I look my 
fortune in the face, and am dumb. If I should belie 
expectation, if I should fall from such a height ! 0 
Mother of the World, save me from that ! I would rather 
die ! ” 

“ But you will not fail,” said lo’, sympathetically. 

“ The gods keep the future ; they only know. The 
thought came to me as I sat at the feet of Tula and Nenet- 
zin, — came to me like a taste of bitter in a cup of sweets. 
Close after followed another even stronger, — how could I be 
so happy, and our comrade over the lake so miserable 1 We 
know how he has hoped and worked and lived for what the 
morrow is to bring : shall he not be notified even of its 
nearness % You have heard the sound of the war-drum : 
what is it like 1 ” 

“ Like the roll of thunder.” 

‘‘Well, when the thunder crosses the lake, and strikes his 
ear, saying, ‘ Up, the war is here ! ’ he will come to the door, 
and down to the water’s edge ; there he must stop ; and as 
he looks wistfully to the city, and strains his ear to catch 
the notes of the combat, will he not ask for us, and, ac- 
cuse us of forgetfulness 1 Bather than that, 0 my brother, 
let my fortune all go back to its giver.” 

“ I understand you now,” said the prince, softly. 

“Yes,” Hualpa continued, “ I am to be at the temple by 
the break of day ; but the night is mine, and I will go to 
the ’tzin, my first friend, of Anahuac the soul, as Henet- 
zin is the flower.” 


HOW THE IRON CROSS CAME BACK. 


317 


“And I will go with you.” 

“No, you cannot. You have not permission. So fare- 
well.” 

“ Until to-morrow,” said lo’. 

“ In the tem^Dle,” answered Hualpa. 


CHAPTER X. 

HOW THE IRON CROSS CAME BACK. 

1 0’ stayed at the landing awhile, nursing the thought left 
him by his comrade. And he was still there, the plash 
of the rowers of the receding canoe in his ear, when the 
great gate of the palace gave exit to another person, this 
time a girl. The guards on duty paid her no attention. 
She was clad simply and poorly, and carried a basket. 
Around the hill were scores of gardeners’ daughters like 
her. 

Erom the avenue she turned into a path which, through 
one of the fields below, led her to an inlet of the lake, 
where the market-people were accustomed to moor their 
canoes. The stars gave light, but too feebly to reclaim any- 
thing from the darkness. Groping amongst the vessels, she 
at length entered one, and, seating herself, pushed clear of 
the land, and out in the lake toward the glow in the sky 
beneath which reposed the city. 

Like the night, the lake was calm ; therefore, no fear for 
the adventuress. The boat, under her hand, had not the 
speed of the king’s when driven by his twelve practised 
rowers ; yet she was its mistress, and it obeyed her kindly. 
But why the journey ? Why alone on the water at such a 
timel 


318 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Half an hour of steady work. The city was, of course, 
much nearer. At the same time, the labor began to tell ; the 
reach of her paddle was not so great as at the beginning, nor 
was the dip so deep ; her breathing was less free, and some- 
times she stopped to draw a dripping hand across her fore- 
head. Surely, this is not a gardener’s daughter. 

Voyageurs now became- frequent. Most of them passed by 
with the salutation usual on the lake, — “ The blessings of 
the gods upon you ! ” Once she was in danger. A canoe full 
of singers, and the singers full of pulque, came down at 
speed upon her vessel. Happily, the blow was given ob- 
liquely ; the crash suspended the song ; the wassailers 
sprang to their feet ; seeing only a girl, and no harm done, 
they drew off, laughing. “ Out with your lamp next time ! ” 
shouted one of them. A law of the lake required some 
such signal at night. 

In the flurry of the collision, -a tamane, leaning over the 
bow of the strange canoe, swung a light almost in the girl’s 
face. With a cry, she shrank away ; as she did so, from her 
bosom fell a shining cross. To the dull slave the symbol told 
no tale ; but, good reader, we know that there is but one 
maiden in all Anahuac who wears such a jewel, and we 
know for whom she wears that one. By the light of that 
cross, we also know the weary passenger is, not a gardener’s 
daughter, but Nenetzin, the princess. 

And the wonder grows. What does the ’tzin Nene — so 
they called her in the days they swung her to sleep in the 
swinging cradle — out so far alone on the lake ? And where 
goes she in such guise, this night of all others, and now 
when the kiss of her betrothed is scarcely cold on her lips 1 
Where are the slaves 1 Where the signs of royalty ? As 
prayed by the gentle voyageurs, the blessings of the gods may 
be upon her, but much I doubt if she has her mother’s, 
almost as holy. 


HOW THE IRON CROSS CAME BACK. 


319 


Slowly now she wins her way. The paddle grows 
heavier in her unaccustomed hands. On her brow gathers 
a dew which is neither of the night nor the lake. She is 
not within the radius of the temple lights, yet stops to rest, 
and bathe her palms in the cooling waves. Later, when the 
wall of the city, close by, stretches away on either side, far 
reaching, a margin of darkness under the illuminated sky, 
the canoe seems at last to conquer ; it floats at mil idly as a 
log j and in that time the princess sits motionless as the 
boat, lapsed in revery. Her purpose, if she has one, may 
have chilled in the solitude or weakened under the labor. 
Alas, if the purpose be good ! If evil, help her, 0 sweet 
Mary, Mother ! 

The sound of paddles behind her broke the spell. With 
a huiTied glance over her shoulder, she bent again to the 
task, and there was no more hesitation. She gained the 
wall, and j)assed in, taking the first canal. By the houses, 
and through the press of canoes, and under the bridges, to 
the heart of the city, she went. On the steps bordering a 
basin close to the street which had been Cortes’ line of 
march the day of the entry, she landed, and, ascending to 
the thoroughfare, set out briskly, basket in hand, her face to 
the south. With never a look to the right or left, never a 
response to the idlers on the pavement, she hurried down 
the street. The watchers on the towers sung the hour ; 
she scarcely heard them. At last she reached the great 
temple. A glance at the coatapantli, one at the shadowy 
sanctuaries, to be sure of the locality ; then her eyes fell upon 
the palace of Axaya’, and she stopped. The street to this 
point had been thronged with people ; here there were none ; 
the strangers were by themselves. The main gate of the 
ancient house stood half open, and she saw the wheels 
of gun-carriages, and now and then a Christian soldier 
pacing his round, slowly and grimly ; of the little host, he 


320 


THE FAIR GOD. 


alone gave signs of life. Over the walls she heard the 
stamp of horses’ feet, and once a neigh, shrill and loud. 
The awe of the Indian in presence of the white man seized 
her, and she looked and listened, half frightened, half wor- 
sliipful, with but one clear sense, and that was of the near- 
ness of the Tonatiah. 

A sound of approaching feet disturbed her, and she ran 
across to the gate ; at once the purpose which had held her 
silent on the azoteas, which prompted her ready acquiescence 
in the betrothal to Hualpa, which had sustained her in the 
passage of the lake, was revealed. She was seeking her 
lover to save him. • 

She would have passed through the gateway, but for a 
number of lances dropped with their jDoijits almost against 
her breast. What with fear of those behind and of those 
before her, she almost died. On the pavement, outside 
the entrance, she was lying when Alvarado came to the 
rescue. The guard made way for him quickly ; for in his 
manner was the warning which nothing takes from words, 
not even threats ; verily, it had been as well to attempt to 
hinder a leaping panther. He threw the lances up, and 
knelt by her, saying tenderly, “Henetzin, Henetzin, poor 
cliild ! It is I, — come to save you ! ” 

She half arose, and, smiling through her tears, clasped her 
hands, and cried, “ Tonatiah I Tonatiah ! ” 

There are times when a look, a gesture, a tone of the voice, 
do all a herald’s part. What need of speech to tell the 
Spaniard why the truant was there % The poor disguise, the 
basket, told of flight ; her presence at that hour said, “ I 
have come to thee ” ; the cross returned, the tears, the joy at 
sight of him, certified her love ; and so, when she put her 
arm around his neck, and the arrow, not yet taken away, 
rattled against his corselet, to his heart there shot a })ain sc. 
sharp and quick it seemed as if the very soul of liim waj^ 
goijig out. 


HOW THE IRON CROSS CAME BACK. 


321 


He raised her gently, and carried her through the entrance. 
The rough men looking on saw upon his cheek what, if the 
cheek had been a woman’s, they would have sworn was a tear. 

“ Ho, Marina ! ” he cried to the wondering interpreter. 
“ I bring thee a bird dropped too soon from the nest. The 
hunter hath chased the poor thing, and here is a holt in its 
wing. Give place in thy cot, while I go for a doctor, and 
room with thee, that malice hurt not a good name.” 

And at the sight the Indian woman was touched ; she ran 
to the cot, smoothed the pillow of feathers, and said, “ Here, 
rest her here, and run quickly. I will care for her.” 

He laid her down tenderly, but she clung to his hand, and 
said to Marina, “ He must not go. Let him first hear what 
I have to say.” 

“ But you are hurt.” 

“ It is nothing, nothing. He must stay.” 

So earnestly did she speak, that the captain changed his 
mind. “ Very well. What is spoken in pain should he 
spoken quickly. I will stay.” 

Henetzin caught the assent, and went on rapidly. “ Let 
him know that to-morrow at noon the drum in the great tem- 
ple will he beaten, and the bridges taken up, and then there 
will be war.” 

“ By the saints ! she bringeth doughty news,” said Alva- 
rado, in his voice of soldier. “ Ask her where she got it ; 
ask her, as you love us, Marina.” 

“ From my father, — from the king himself.” 

“ And this is child of Montezuma ! ” cried Marina. 

“ The princess Henetzin,” said the cavalier. “ But stay not 
so. Ask her when and where she heard the news.” 

“ To-day, at Chapultepec.” 

“ What of the particulars ? How is the war to be made 1 
What are the preparations 1 ” 

“ The lord Cuitlahua is to take up the bridges. Maize and 
14* u 


322 


THE FAIK GOD. 


meat will be furnished to-morrow only. About the great tem- 
ple now there are ten thousand warriors for an attack, and 
elsewhere in the city there are seventy thousand more.” 

“ Enough,” said Alvarado, kissing the little hand. “ Look 
now to the hurt, Marina. Bring the light ; mayhap we can 
take the bolt away ourselves.” 

Marina knelt, and examined the wounded arm, and shortly 
held up the arrow. 

“ Good ! ” the cavalier said. Thou art a doctor, indeed, 
Marina. In the schools at home they give students big-let- 
tered parchments. I will do better by thee ; I will cover the 
arm. that did this surgery with bracelets of gold. Eun now, 
and bring cloth and water. The blood thou seest trickling 
here is from her heart, which loveth me too dearly to suffer 
such waste. Haste thee ! haste thee ! ” 

They bathed the wound, and applied the bandages, though 
all too roughly to suit the cavalier, who, thereupon, turned 
to go, saying, “ Sit thou there, Marina, and leave her not, 
except to do her will. TeU her I will return, and to be at 
rest, for she is safe as in her father’s house. If any do but 
look at her wrongfully, they shall account to me. So, by my 
mother’s cross, I swear ! ” 

And he hurried back to the audience-chamber, where the 
council was yet in session. While he related what had been 
told by Nenetzin, a deep silence pervaded the assemblage, 
and the brave men, from looking at each other, turned, with 
singular unanimity, to Cortes ; who, thus appealed to, threw 
off his affectation, and standing up, spoke, so as to be heard 
by aU, — 

“ Comrades, soldiers, gentlemen, let there be no words 
more. The step you have urged upon me, in the name of 
the army, I hesitated to take. I grant you, I hesitated ; 
but not from love of the soft-tongued, lying, pagan king. 
Bethink ye. We left Cuba hastily, as ye all remember. 


HOW THE IRON CROSS CAME BACK. 


323 


because of a design to arrest us there as malefactors and 
traitors. Now, when our enemies in that island hear from 
our expedition, and have told them all its results, — the 
wealth we have won, and the country, cities, peoples, and 
empire discovered, — envy and jealousy will pursue us, and 
false tongues go back to Spain, and fill the ears of our 
royal master with reports intended to rob us of our glory 
and despoil us of our hire. How could I know but the 
seizure in question might be magnified into impolicy and 
cruelty, and furnish cause for disgrace, imprisonment, and 
forfeiture ? For that I hesitated. This news, however, end- 
eth doubt and debate. The over-cunning king hath pmt 
himself outside of mercy or compassion ; we are compelled 
to undo him. So far, well. Let me remind ye now, that 
the news of which I speak hath in it a warning which it 
were sinful not to heed. Yesterday the great infidel was at 
our mercy ; not more difficult his capture then than a •vdsit 
to his palace ; but now, in all the histories of bold perform- 
ances, nothing bolder, — nothing of the Cid’s, nothing of King 
Arthur’s. In the heart of his capital we are to make pris- 
oner him, the head of millions, the political ruler and relig- 
ious chief, not merely secure in the love and fear of his sub- 
jects, but in the height of his careful preparation for war, in 
the centre of his camp, within call, nay, under the eyes, of 
his legions, numbering thousands where we number tens. 
Take ye each, my brave brethren, the full measure of the 
design, and then tell me, in simple words, how it may be 
best done. And among ye, let him speak who can truly say, 
I dare do what my tongue delivereth. I wait your answer.” 

And in the chamber there again fell a hush so deep that 
those present might well have been taken for ghosts. The 
idea as first seen by them was commonplace ; under his de- 
scription, it became heroic ; and struggling, as he suggested, 
to measure it each for himself, all were dumb. 


324 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ Good gentlemen,” said Cortes, smiling, why so laggard 
now ? Speak, Diaz del Castillo. Offer what thou canst.” 

The good soldier, and afterward good chronicler, of the 
conquest and its trials, this one among the rest, replied, “ I 
confess, Senor, the enterprise is difficult beyond my first 
thought. I confess, also, to more reflection about its neces- 
sity than its achievement. To answer truthfully, at this 
time I see but one way to the end ; and that is, to invite the 
monarch here under some sufficient pretence, and then lay 
hands on him.” 

“ Are ye all of the same minds, gentlemen 1 ” 

There was a murmur of assent, whereupon Cortes arose 
from leaning upon his sword, and said, sharply, — 

“ To hear ye, gentlemen, one would think the summer all 
before us in which to interchange courtesies with the royal 
barbarian. What is the fact 1 At noon to-morrow our hours 
of grace expire. A beat of drum, and then assault, and 
after that,” — he paused, looking grimly round the circle, 
— “ and after that, sacrifices to the gods, I suppose.” 

There was a general movement and outcry. Some griped 
their arms, others crossed themselves. Cortes saw and pressed 
his advantage. 

“ I shall not take your advice, Bernal Diaz ; not I, by my 
conscience ! Heaven helping me, I expect to see old Spain 
again ; and more, I expect to take these comrades back with 
me, rich in glory and gold.” Then, to the officers behind 
him, he said, in his ordinary tone of command, “ Ordas, do 
thou bid the carpenters prepare quarters in this palace for 
Montezuma and his court ; and let them begin their work to- 
night, for he will be our guest before noon to-morrow. And 
thou, Leon, thou, Lugo, thou, Avila, and thou, Sandoval, get 
ye ready to go with me to the — ” 

“ And II” asked Alvarado. 

“ Thou shalt go also.” 


THE CHRISTIAN TAKES CARE OF HIS OWN. 


325 


And the army, Senor ? ” Diaz suggested. 

“ The army shall remain in quarters.” 

Never man’s manner more calm, never man more abso- 
lutely assured. The listeners warmed with admiration. As 
unconscious of the effect he was working, he went on, — 

“ I have shown the difficulties of the enterprise ; now I 
say further, the crisis of the expedition is upon us : if I suc- 
ceed, all is won ; if I fail, all is lost. In such strait, what 
should we do between this and then 'I Let us not trust in 
our cunning and strength : we are Christians ; as such, put 
we our faith in Christ and the Holy Mother. Olmedo, 
father, go thou to the chapel, and get ready the altar. The 
night to confession and prayer ; and let the morning find us 
on our knees shrieved and blessed. We are done, comrades. 
Let the chamber be cleared. To the chapel all.” 

And they did the bidding cheerfully. All night the good 
father was engaged in holy work, confessing, shrieving, pray- 
ing. So the morning found them. 


CHAPTER XI. 


THE CHRISTIAN TAKES CARE OF HIS OWN. 

UALPA returned to the city about the time the stars, 



XI which in that clime and season herald the morning, 
take their places in the sky. He had lightened his heart, 
and received the sympathy of a lover in return ; he had told 
the great things done and promised by the king, and sor- 
rowed that his friend could take no part in the events which, 
he imagined, were to make the day heroic forever ; and now, 
his enthusiasm of youth sobered by the plaints to which he 
had listened while traversing the dusky wralks of the beau- 


326 


THE FAIR GOD. 


tiful garden, he clomb the stairs of the teocallis. Before 
the day was fairly dawned, he was at his post, waiting, 
dreaming of Nenetzin, and hearkening to the spirit-songs of 
ambition, always so charming to unpractised souls. 

And the lord Cuitlahua perfected his measures. On all 
the dikes, and at the entrance of all the canals, guards were 
stationed. The bridges nearest the palace occupied by the 
strangers were held by chosen detachments. Except those 
thus detailed, the entire military in the city were pent in the 
temples. And to all, including the lord steward, the proper 
orders were confided. All awaited the signal. 

And the king, early in the night, ignorant of the flight 
of Nenetzin, had come from Chaj3ultepec to his palace in the 
capital. He retired as he was wont, and slept the sleep as 
restful to a mind long distracted by irresolution as to a 
body exhausted by labor ; such slumber as comes to him who, 
in time of doubt, involving all dearest interests, at last dis- 
covers what his duty is, and, fully determined, simply awaits 
the hour of performance, trustful of the action taken, and of 
the good-will of the god or gods of his faith. 

On the side of the Christians, the preparation, more sim- 
ple, was also complete. From mass the little host went to 
breakfast, then to arms. The companies formed ; even the 
Tlascalans behaved as if impressed with a sense that their 
fate had been challenged. 

To the captains, again convoked in the audience-chamber, 
Cortes detailed his plan of operation. His salutation of each 
w^as grave and calm. Though very watchful, they heard him 
without question ; and when they went out, they might 
have said. The hour of trial is come, and now will be seen 
which holds the conquering destiny, — the God of the Chris- 
tian or that of the Aztec. 

From the council, Alvarado went first to IMarina ; finding 
that Henetzin slept, he joined his companions in the great 


THE CHRISTIAN TAKES CARE OF HIS OWN. 


327 


court, where, gay and careless, lie carolled a song, and twirled 
his sword, and, in thought of smiling fortune and a princely 
Indian love, walked complacently to and fro. And so wait, 
ready for action, the Christian lover and the heathen, — one 
in the palace, the other in the temple, — both, in fancy, 
lord of the same sweet mistress. 

At the stated hour, as had been the custom, the three 
lords came, in splendid costume, and with stately ceremonial, 
bringing the king’s compliments, and asking Cortes will 
for the day. And they returned with compliments equally 
courteous and deceptive, taking with them Orteguilla, the 
page, instructed to inform the monarch that directly, if such 
were the royal pleasure, Malinche would be happy to visit 
him in his palace. 

A little later there went out parties of soldiers, apparently 
to view the city ; yet the point was noticeable that, besides be- 
ing fully armed, each was in charge of a chosen subor- 
dinate. Later, the army was drawn up, massed in the gar- 
den ; the matches of the gunners were lighted ; the horse- 
men stood at their bridles ; the Tlascalans were stationed 
to defend the outer walls. De Oli, Morla, Marin, and 
Monjarez passed through the lines in careful inspection. 

“ Heard’st thou when the drum was to be sounded 1 ” asked 
De Oli, looking to the sun. 

“ At noon,” answered Marin. 

“ Three hours yet, as I judge. Short time, by Our Lady ! ” 

The party was impatient. To their relief, Cortes at last 
came out, with his five chosen cavaliers, Sandoval, Alvarado, 
Leon, Avila, and Lugo. As he proceeded to the gate, ail 
eyes turned to him, all hearts became confident, — so much 
of power over the weak is there in the look of one master 
epirit. 

At the gate he waited for the Dona Marina. 

Are ye ready, gentlemen 1 ” 


328 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ All ready,” they replied. 

“ With thee, De Oli, I leave the command. At sight or 
sound of attack or combat, come quickly. Charge stiuight 
to the palace, lances in the lead. Bring our horses. Fare- 
well. Christ and the Mother for us ! ” And with that, 
Cortes stepped into the street. 

For a time the party proceeded silently. 

“ Is not this what the pagans call the beautiful street ? ” 
Sandoval asked. 

“ Why the question 1 ” 

“ I have gone through graveyards not more deserted.” 

“ Thou ’rt right,” said Lugo. “ By Our Lady ! when last 
we went this way, I remember the pavements, doors, porticos, 
and roofs were crowded. Now, not a woman or a child.” 

In faith, Senor, we are a show suddenly become stale.” 

“ Be it so,” replied Leon, sneeringly. “We will give the 
public a new trick.” 

“ Mirad, Senores ! ” said Cortes. “ Last night, all through 
this district, particularly along this street, there went patrols, 
removing the inhabitants, and making ready for what the 
drum is advertised to let loose upon us. Don Pedro, thy 
princess hath told the truth.” And looking back to the 
towers of the teocallis, he added, after a fit of laughter, “ The 
fools, the swine ! They have undone themselves ; or, rather,” 
— his face became grave on the instant, — “ the Holy Mother 
hath undone them for us. Give thanks, gentlemen, our em- 
prise is already won ! Yonder the infidel general hath his 
army in waiting for the word of the king. Keep we that 
unspoken or undelivered, — only that, — and the way of our 
return, prisoner in hand, will be as clear of armed men as 
the going is.” 

The customary guard of nobles kept the portal of the 
palace ; the antechamber, however, was crowded to its full 
capacity with unarmed courtiers, through whom the Chris- 


THE CHRISTIAN TAKES CARE OF HIS OWN. 


329 


tians passed with grave assurance. To acquaintances Cortes 
bowed courteously. Close by the door of the audience-cham- 
ber, he found Orteguilla conversing with Maxtla, who, at 
sight of him, knelt, and, touching the floor with his palm, 
offered to conduct the party to the royal presence ; such 
were his orders. Cortes stopped an instant. 

‘‘ Hath the king company 1 ” he asked Orteguilla. 

“ None of account, — a boy and three or four old men.” 
He is ours. Let us on, gentlemen I ” 

And forthwith they passed under the curtains held aside 
for them by Maxtla. 

On a dais covered with a carpet of plumajej the monarch 
sat. Three venerable men stood behind him. At his feet, 
a little to the right, was the prince lo’, in uniform. A flood 
of light poured through a window on the northern side of 
the chamber, and fell full on the group, bringing out with 
intense clearness the rich habiliments of the monarch, and 
every feature of his face. The Christians numbered the at- 
tendance, and, trained to measure dangers and discover advan- 
tages by a glance, smiled at the confidence of the treacherous 
heathen. Upon the stillness, broken only by their ringing 
tread, sped the voice of Cortes. 

Alvarado, Lugo, all of ye, watch well whom we have 
here. On your lives, see that the boy escape not.” 

Montezuma kept his seat. 

“ The gods keep you this pleasant morning,” he said. “ I 
am glad to see you.” 

They bowed to him, and Cortes replied, — 

We thank thee, good king. May the Holy Virgin, of 
our Christian faith, have thee in care. Thus pray we, than 
whom thou hast no truer servants.” 

“ If you prefer to sit, T will have seats brought.” 

“We thank thee again. In the presence of our master, it 
is the custom to stand, and he would hold us discomteous if 


330 


THE FAIR GOD. 


we did otherwise before a sovereign friend as dear to him as 
thou art, great king.” 

The monarch waved his hand. 

“ Your master is no doubt a rare and excellent sovereign,” 
he said, then changed the subject. “ The lords, whom I 
sent to you this morning, reported that all goes well with 
you in the palace. I hope so. If anything is wanted, you 
liave only to speak. My provinces are at your service.” 

“ The lords reported truly.” 

“I am very glad. Thinking of you, Malinche, and study- 
ing to make your contentment perfect, I have wondered if 
you have any amusements or games with which to pass the 
time.” 

As there were not in all the New World, however it might 
be in ,the Old, more desperate gamblers than the cavaliers, 
they looked at each other when the translation was concluded, 
and smiled at the simplicity of the speaker. Nevertheless, 
Cortes replied with becoming gravity, — 

‘‘We have our pastimes, good king, as all must have ; for 
without them, nature hath ordered that the body shall grow 
old and the mind incapable. Our pastimes, however, relate 
almost entirely to war.” 

“ That is labor, Malinche.” 

“ So is hunting,” said Cortes, smiling. 

“ My practice is not,” answered the monarch, taking the 
remark as an allusion to his own love of the sport, and 
laughing. “ The lords drive the game to me, and my pleas- 
ure is in exercising the skill required to take it. Some day 
you must go with me to my preserves over the lake, and I 
will show you my modes ; but I did not mean that kind 
of amusement. I will explain my meaning. lo’,” he 
said to the prince, who had arisen, “ bid Maxtla bring 
hither the silver balls. I will teach Malinche to play toio 
loqueJ* 


THE CHRISTIAN TAKES CARE OF HIS OWN. 331 


“ Have a care, gentlemen ! ” said Cortes, divining the speech 
from the action of the speaker. “ The lad must stay. And 
thou, Marina, tell him so.” 

The comely, gentle-hearted Indian woman hastened tremu- 
lously to say, “ Most mighty king, Malinche bids me tell 
thee that he has heard of the' beautiful game, and will be 
glad to learn it, but not now. He wishes the prince to re- 
main.” 

One step lo’ had in the mean time taken, — but one ; in 
front of him Leon stepped, hand on sword, and menace on 
his brow. The blood fled the monarch’s face. 

“ Go not,” he at length said to the boy ; and to Cortes, “ I 
do not understand you, Malinche.” 

The time of demand was come. Cortes moved nearer the 
dais, and replied, his eyes fixed coldly and steadily on those 
of the victim, — 

‘‘ I have business with thee, king ; and until it is con- 
cluded, thou, the prince, and thy councillors must stay. Out- 
cry, or attempt at escape, will be at peril of life.” 

The monarch sat upright, pale and rigid ; the ancients 
dropped upon their knees. lo’ alone was brave ; he stepped 
upon the platform, as if to defend the royal person. Then 
in the same cold, inflexible manner, Cortes proceeded, — 

“ I have been thy guest, false king, long enough to learn 
thee well. The power which, on all occasions, thou hast been 
so careful to impress upon me, hath but made thy hypocrisy 
the more astonishing. Listen, while I expose thee to thyself. 
We started hither at thy invitation. In Cholula, neverthe- 
less, we were set upon by the army. No thanks to thee that 
we are alive to-day. And, in the same connection, when 
thou wert upbraided for inviting us, the lords and princes 
were told that such was the instruction of one of thy bloody 
gods, who had promised here in the capital to deliver us 
prisoners for sacrifice.” 


332 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Montezuma offered to s])eak. 

“ Deny it not, deny it not ! ” said Cortes, with the slight- 
est show of passion. “ In god or man, such perfidy cannot 
be excused. But that is not all. Say nothing about the 
command sent the troops near Tuzpan to attack my people ; 
nor about the demand upon townships under protection of 
niy royal master for women and children to feed to thy hun- 
gry idols ; now — ” 

Here the king broke in upon the interpreter, — 

do not understand what Malinche says about my 
troops attacking his people at Tuzpan.” 

“ Thy governor killed one of my captains.” 

“Hot by my order.” 

“ Then make good the denial, by sending for the officer 
who did the murder, that he may be punished according to 
the wickedness of his crime.” 

The king took a signet from his wrist, and said to one of 
his councillors, “ Let this be shown to the governor of that 
province. I require him to come here immediately, with all 
who were concerned with him at the time spoken of by Ma- 
linche.” 

The smile with which the monarch then turned to the 
Spaniard was lost upon him, for he continued, pitilessly as 
before, — 

“ The punishment of the governor is not enough. I ac- 
cuse thee further. Thou treacherous king ! Go with me to 
the temple, and now, — this instant, — I will show thee thy 
brother, with an army at call, waiting thy signal to attack 
us in the palace where so lately we received thy royal 
welcome.” 

The listener started from his seat. Upon his bewildered 
faculties flashed the remembmnce of how carefully and with 
what solemn injunction he had locked his 23lans of war in 
the breasts of the members of his family, gathered about him 


THE CHRISTIAN TAKES CARE OF HIS OWN. 


333 


on the azoteas at Chapultepec. His faith in them forbade 
suspicion. Whence then the exposure ? And to the dealer 
in mysteries Mystery answered, “ The gods ! ” If his former 
faith in the divinity of the stranger came not back, now, 
at least, he knew him sustained by powers with which con- 
tention were folly. He sunk down again ; his head dropped 
upon his struggling breast ; — he was conquered ! 

And the stern Spaniard, as if moved by the sight, said, 
in a softened voice, — 

I know not of thy religion ; but there is a law of 
ours, — a mercy of the dear Christ who hath us in his 
almighty keeping, — by which every sin may be atoned by 
sacrifices, not of innocent victims, but of the sinner’s self. In 
the world I come from, so much is the law esteemed, that 
kings greater than thou have laid down their crowns, the 
better to avail themselves of its salvation. Thou art an un- 
believer, and I may do wrong, — if so, I pray pardon of the 
Holy Ghost that heareth me, — I may do wrong, I say, but, 
infidel as thou art, if thou wilt obey the precept, thou shalt 
have the benefit of the privilege. I do not want war which 
would end in thy destruction and the ruin of thy city and 
people ; therefore I make thee a proposal. Hear me ! ” 

The unhappy king mised his head, and listened eagerly. 

Arise, and go with us to our quarters, and take up thy 
abode there. King shalt thou continue. Thy court can go 
with thee, and thou canst govern from one palace as well 
as another. To make an end of speech,” — and Cortes 
raised his hand tightly clenched, — “to make an end of 
speech, finally and plainly, choose now : go with us or die ! 
I have not brought these officers without a purpose.” 

All eyes centred on the pale face of the monarch, and the 
stillness of the waiting was painful and breathless. At 
last, from tlie depths of his tortured soul, up rose a sparkle 
of resentment. 


334 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ Who ever heard of a great prince, like myself, volunta- 
rily leaving his own palace to become a prisoner in the hands 
of a stranger h ” 

“ Prisoner ! Not so. Hear me again. Court, household, 
and power, with full freedom for its exercise, and the treat- 
ment due a crowned prince, — all these shalt thou have. So, 
in my master’s name, I pledge thee.” 

“No, Malinche, press me not so hardly. Were I to con- 
sent to such a degradation, my people would not. Take one 
of my sons rather. ' This one,” — and he laid his hand on 
lo’s shoulder, — “ whom I love best, and have thought to 
make my successor. Take him as hostage*; but spare me 
this infamy.” 

The debate continued ; an hour passed. 

“ Gentlemen, why waste words on this wretched barba- 
rian 1” exclaimed Leon, at last, half drawing his sword, 
while his face darkened with dreadful purpose. “We can- 
not recede now. In Christ’s name, let us seize him, or 
plunge our swords in his body ! ” 

The captains advanced, baring their swords ; Cortes retired 
a step, as if to make way for them. Brief time remained for 
decision. Trembling and confused, the monarch turned to 
Marina, and asked, “ What did the teule say % ” 

As became a gentle woman, fearful lest death be done be- 
fore her, she replied, — 

“ 0 king, I pray you make no further objection. If you 
yield, they will treat you kindly ; if you refuse, they will 
kill you. Go with them, I pray you.’ 

Upon the advance of the captains, lo’ stepped in front of 
the king ; as they hesitated, either waiting Cortes’ order or 
the answer to Marina’s prayer, he knelt, and clasped his 
father’s knees, and cried tearfully, — 

“ Do not go, 0 king ! Bather than endure such shamey 
let us die I ” 


THE CHRISTIAN TAKES CARE OF HIS OWN. 


335 


Stupefied, almost distraught, the monarch seemed not 
to hear the heroic entreaty. His gaze was on the face of 
Cortes, now as impenetrable and iron-like as the armor on 
his breast. “ The gods have abandoned me ! ” he cried, 
despairingly. “ I am lost ! Malinche, I will go with you ! ” 
His head drooped, and his hands fell nerveless on the chair. 

The boy arose, and turned to lire conquerors, every feature 
convulsed with hate. 

“ Thanks, good king, thanks ! ” said Cortes, smiling. 

Thou hast saved my soul a sin. I will be thy friend till 
death ! ” 

Thereupon, he stepped forward, and kissed the royal hand, 
which fell from his lips as if palsied — I will not say pro- 
faned — by the touch. And, one after another, Leon, Lugo, 
Avila, Alvarado, and Sandoval approached, and knelt on the 
dais, and in like manner saluted the fallen prince. 

“ Are you done, Malinche ” the victim asked, when 
somewhat revived. 

‘‘What I wish now, above all things,” was the reply, 
spoken with rare pretence of feeling, “ is to be assured, good 
king, that we are forgiven the pain we have caused thee, 
since, though of our doing, it was not of our will as much as 
of the ambition of some of thy own lords and chiefs. What 
I desire next is, that thy goodness may not be without im- 
mediate results. I and my officers, thy son and these coun- 
cillors, are witnesses that thou didst consent to my proposal 
out of great love of peace and thy people. To secure the 
object, — noble beyond praise, — the lords here in the pal- 
ace, and those of influence throughout the provinces, must 
be convinced that thou dost go with me of thine own free 
will ; not as prisoner, but as trusted guest returning the favor 
of guest. How to do that best is in thy knowledge more 
than mine. Only, what thy judgment appro veth, set about 
quickly. We wait thy orders.” 


336 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ lo’, uncles,” said Montezuma, his eyes dim with tears, 
“ as you love me, be silent as to what has hero taken place. 
I charge you that you tell it to no man, while I live. Bid 
Maxtla come.” 

Summoning all his strength to meet the shrewd eyes of 
the chief, the monarch sat up with a show of cheerfulness. 

“ Bring my palanquin,” ^ said, after Maxtla’s salutation ; 
“ and direct some of the elder lords to he ready to accom- 
pany me without arms or ceremony. As advised by Huitzil’, 
and these good uncles, I have resolved to go, and for a time 
abide with Malinche in the old palace. Send an officer, with 
the workmen, to prepare quarters for my use and that of the 
court. Publish my intention. Go quickly.” 

Afterwhile from the palace issued a procession which no 
man, uninformed, might look upon and say was not a funeral : 
in the palanquin, the dead ; on its right and left, the guard 
of honor ; behind, the friends, a long train, speechless and 
sorrowing. The movement was quiet and solemn ; three 
squares and as many bridges were passed, when, from down 
the street, a man came running with all speed. He gained 
the rear of the cortege, and spoke a few hurried words there ; 
a murmur arose, and spread, and grew into a furious outcry, — 
a moment more, and the cortege was dissolved in tumult. At 
the last corner on the way, the cavaliers had been joined by 
some of the armed parties, who, for the purpose, had preceded 
them into the city in the early morning ; these closed firmly 
around, a welcome support. 

“ Mirad!'"* cried Cortes, loudly. The varlets are with- 
out arms. Let no one strike until I say so.” 

The demonstration increased. Closer drew the mob, some 
adjuring the monarch, some threatening the Christians. That 
an understanding of the situation was abroad was no longer 
doubtful ; still Cortes held his men in check, for he knew, 
if blood were shed now, the common-sense of the people 


THE CHRISTIAN TAKES CARE OF HIS OWN 


337 


would refuse the story he so relied upon, — that the king’s 
coming was voluntary. 

“ Can our guest,” he asked of Sandoval, “ be sleeping the 
while 1 ” 

“ Treachery, Sehor.” 

“ By God’s love, captain, if it so turn out, drive thy sword 
first of all things through him ! ” 

AVhile yet he spoke, the curtains of the carriage were 
drawn aside ; the carriers halted instantly ; and of the con- 
course, all the natives fell upon their knees, and became still, 
so that the voice of the monarch was distinctly heard. 

“ The noise disturbs me,” he said, in ordinary tone. “ Let 
the street be cleared.” 

The lords whom he addressed kept their faces to the 
ground. 

“ What is the cause of the clamor ? ” 

No one answered. A frown was gathering upon his face, 
when an Aztec sprang up, and drew near him. He was 
dressed as a citizen of the lower class. At the side of the 
carriage he stopped, and touched the pavement with his palm. 

“ Guatamozin ! ” said the king, more in astonishment than 
anger. 

“ Even so. 0 king, • — father, — to bear a soldier’s part 
to-day, I have dared your judgment.” Lifting his eyes to 
the monarch’s, he endured his gaze steadily, but, at the same 
time, with such an expression of sympathy that reproof was 
impossible. “ I am prepared for any sentence ; but first, let 
me know, let these lords and all the people know, is this 
going in truth of your own free will ? ” 

Montezuma regarded him fixedly, but not in wi’ath. 

“ I conjure you, uncle, father, king, — I conjime you, by 
our royal blood, by our country, by all the gods, — are these 
strangers guests or guards ? Speak, — 1 pray you, speak but 
one word.” 


1.5 


338 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The poor, stricken monarch heard, and was penetrated by 
the tone of anguish ; yet he replied, — 

“ My brother’s son insults me by his question. I am still 
the king, — free to go and come, to reward and punish.” 

He would have spoken further, and kindly, but for the in- 
terruption of Cortes, who ciied impatiently, — 

“ Ho, there ! Why this delay ? Forward ! ” 

And thereupon Avila stepped rudely and insolently be- 
tween the king and ’tzin. The latter’s broad breast swelled, 
and his eyes blazed ; he seemed like a tiger about to leap. 

“ Beware ! ” said the king, and the warning was in time. 

Beware ! iN'ot here, not now ! ” 

The ’tzin turned to him with a quick, anxious look of in- 
quiry ; a revulsion of feeling ensued ; he arose, and said, 
with bowed head, “ I understand. 0 king, if we help not 
ourselves, we aie lost. ‘ Not here, not now.’ I catch the 
permission.” Pointing to Avila, he added, ‘‘ This man’s life 
is in my hands, but I pass it by ; thine, 0 uncle, is the most 
precious. We will punish these insolents, but not here ; we 
will give you rescue, but not now. Be of cheer.” 

He stepped aside, and the melancholy cortege passed on, 
leaving the lords and people and the empire, as represented 
by them, in the dust. Before the teocallis, under the eyes 
of Cuitlahua, within hailing distance of the ten thousand 
warriors, the doughty cavaliers bore their prize unchallenged. 

And through the gates of the old palace, through the files 
of Spaniards in order of battle waiting, they also carried 
what they thought was the empire, won without a blow, to 
be parcelled at pleasui’e, — its lands, its treasure, its cities, 
and its people. 


BOOK SIX. 


CHAPTER I. 


THE LORD HUALPA FLEES HIS FORTUNE. 

HE ’tzin Giiatarao sat at breakfast alone in his palace 



-J_ near Iztapalapan. The fare was simple, — a pheasant, 
bread of maize, oranges and bananas, and water from the 
spring ; and the repast would have been soon despatched but 
for the announcement, by a slave in waiting, of the lord 
Hualpa. At mention of the name the ’tzin's countenance 
assumed a glad expression. 

“ The lord Hualpa ! The gods be praised ! Bid him 
come.” 

Directly the visitor appeared at the door, and paused 
there, his eyes fixed upon the floor, his body bent, like one 
half risen from a salutation. The ’tzin went to him, and 
taking his hand said, 

“ Welcome, comrade. Como and account for yourself. 
I know not yet how to punish you ; but for the present, 
sit there, and eat. If you come from Tenochtitlan this 
morning, you must bring with you the appetite which is one 
of the blessings of the lake. Sit, and I will order your 
breakfast.” 

“ No, good ’tzin, not for me, I pray you. I am from the 
lake, but do not bring any blessing*” 

The ’tzin resumed his seat, looking searchingly and curi- 
ously at his guest, and pained by his manner and appear- 
ance. His face was careworn ; his frame bent and emaciated ; 


340 


THE FAIR GOD. 


his look constantly downward ; the voice feeble and of 
uncertain tone ; in short, his aspect was that of one come 
up from a battle in which shame and grief had striven with 
youth of body and soul, and, fierce as the struggle had been, 
the end was not yet. He was the counterpart of his former 
self. 

“ You have been sick,” said the ’tzin, afterwhile. 

“ Very sick, in spirit,” replied Hualpa, without raising his 
eyes. 

The ’tzin went on. “ After your desertion, I caused in- 
quiry to be made for you everywhere, — at the Chalcan’s, 
and at your palace. No one could give me any tidings. I 
sent a messenger to Tihuanco, and your father was no better 
informed. Your truancy has been grievous to your friends, 
no less than to yourself. I have a right to call you to 
account.” 

“ So you have ; only let us to the garden. The air out- 
side is sweet, and there is a relief in freedom from walls.” 

From habit, I suppose, they proceeded to the arena set 
apart for military exercise. No one was there. The ’tzin 
seated himself on a bench, making room for Hualpa, who 
still declined the courtesy, saying, — 

“ I will give an account of myself to you, brave ’tzin, not 
only because I should, but because I stand in need of your 
counsel. Look for nothing strange ; mine is a simple story 
of shame and failure. You know its origin already. You 
remember the last night I spent with you here. I do, at 
least. That day the king made me happier than I shall ever 
be again. When I met* you at the landing, the kiss of my 
betrothed was sweet upon my lips, and I had but one sor- 
row in the world, — that you were an exile, and could not 
take part, as you so wished and deserved, in the battle which 
my hand was to precipitate next noon. I left you, and by 
dawn was at my post in the temple. The hours were long. 


THE LORD HUALPA FLEES HIS FORTUNE. 341 


At last the time came. All was ready. The ten thousand 
warriors chosen for the assault were in their quarters. 
The lord Cuitlahua was in the tower of Huitzir, with the 
teotuctli and his pabas, at prayer. We awaited only the 
king’s word. Finally, lo’ appeared. I saw him coming. I 
raised the stick, my blood was warm, anotlier instant and 
the signal would have been given — ” Hualpa’s voice trem- 
bled, and he stopped. 

“ Go on,” said the ’tzin. “ What restrained you 1 ” 

‘‘ I remembered the words of the king, — ‘ lo’ will come 
to you at noon with my commands,’ — those were the 
words. I waited. ‘ Strike ! ’ said lo’. ‘ The command, — 
quick ! ’ I cried. ‘ As you love life, strike ! ’ he shouted. 
Something unusual had taken place; I hesitated. ‘Does 
the king so command!’ I asked. ‘Time never was as 
precious ! Give me the stick ! ’ he replied. But the duty 
was mine. ‘ With your own hand give the signal,’ — such 
was the order. I resisted, and he gave over the effort, 
and, throwing himself at my feet, prayed me to strike. I 
refused the prayer, also. Suddenly he sprang up, and 
ran out to the verge of the temple overlooking the street. 
Lest he should cast himself off, I followed. He turned to 
me, as I approached, and cried, with upraised hands, ‘Too 
late, too late ! We are undone. Look where they carry 
him off ! ’ ‘ Whom ! ’ I asked. ‘ The king — my father 

— a prisoner ! ’ Below, past the coatapantli, the royal palan- 
quin was being borne, guarded by the strangers. The blood 
stood still in my heart. I turned to the prince ; he was 
gone. A sense of calamity seized me. I ran to the tower, 
and called the lord Cuitlahua, who was in time to see the 
procession. I shall never forget the awful look he gave me, 
or his words.” Hualpa again paused. 

“ What were they ! ” asked the ’tzin. 

“ ‘ My lord Hualpa,’ he said, ‘ had y )u given the signal 


342 


THE FAIR GOD. 


when lo' came to you first, I could have interposed my com- 
panies, and saved him. It is now too late ; he is lost. 
May the gods forgive you ! A ruined country cannot.’ ” 

“ Said he so*?” exclaimed the ’tzin, indignantly. “ By all 
the gods, he was wrong ! ” 

At these words, Hualpa for the first time dared look in- 
to the ’tzin’s face, surprised, glad, yet doubtful. 

“ How 1 ” he asked. “ Did you say I was right 1 ” 

Yes.” 

Tears glistened in the Tihuancan’s eyes, and he seized and 
kissed his friend’s hand with transport. 

“ I begin to understand you,” the ’tzin said, still more 
kindly. “ You thought it your fault that the king was a 
prisoner ; you fled for shame.” 

“Yes, — for shame.” 

“ My poor friend ! ” 

“But consider,” said Hualpa, — “consider how rapidly I 
had risen, and to what height. Admitting my self-accusa- 
tions, when before did man fall so far and so low 1 What 
wonder that I fled ? 

“ Well, you have my judgment. Seat yourself, and hear 
me further.” 

Hualpa took the seat this time ; after which the ’tzin con- 
tinued. “ The seizure was made in the palace. The king 
yielded to threats of death. He could not resist. While 
the strangers were bearing him past the teocallis, and you 
were looking at them, their weapons were at his throat. 
Had you yielded to lo’s prayer, and given the signal, and 
had Cuitlahua obeyed, and with his bands attempted a 
rescue, your benefactor would have been slain. Do not 
think me dealing in conjectures. I went to him in the 
street, and prayed to be allowed to save him ; he forbade me. 
Therefore, hold not yourself in scorn ; be happy ; you saved 
his life a second time.” 


THE LORD HUALPA FLEES HIS FORTUNE. 


343 


Again Hualpa gave way to his gratitude. 

** Nor is that all,” the ’tzin continued. “ In my opinion, 
the last rescue was nobler than the first. As to the lord 
Cuitlahua, he at rest. He was not himself when he chid 
you so cruelly ; he now thinks as I do ; he exonerates 
you ; his messengers have frequently come, asking if you 
had returned. So, no more of shame. Give me now what 
else you did.” 

The sudden recall to the past appeared to throw Hualpa 
back ; his head sunk upon his breast again, and for a time 
he was silent ; at length he replied, “ As I see now, good 
’tzin, I have been very foolish. Before I go on, assure me 
that you will listen with charity.” 

“With charity and love.” 

“ I have hardly the composure to tell what more I 
did ; yet the story will come to you in some form. Judge 
me mercifully, and let the subject be never again re- 
called.” 

“ You have spoken.” 

“ Very well. I have told you the words of the lord Cui- 
tlahua ; they burnt me, like fire. Thinking myself forever 
disgraced, I descended from the azoteas to the street, and 
there saw the people’s confusion, and heard their cries and 
curses. I could not endure myself. I fled the city, like a 
guilty wretch. Instinctively, I hurried to Tihuanco. There 
I avoided every habitation, even my father’s. News of evil 
travels fast. The old merchant, I knew, must needs hear of 
the king’s seizure and what I regarded as my crime. So 
I cared not to meet his eyes. I passed the days in the 
jungles hunting, but the charm of the old occupation was 
gone ; somehow my arrows flew amiss, and my limbs refused 
a long pursuit. How I subsisted, I scarcely know. At last, 
however, my ideas began to take form, and I was able to in- 
terrogate myself. Through the king’s bounty, I was a lord, 


344 


THE FAIR GOD. 


and owner of a palace ; by his favor, I further reflected, 
Kenetzin was bound to me in solemn betrothal. What would 
she think of me ? What right had I, so responsible for his 
great misfortune, to retain his gifts 1 I could release her 
from the odious engagement. At his feet I could lay down 
the title and property ; and then, if you refused me as a sol- 
dier or slave, I could hide myself somewhere ; for the grief- 
struck and unhappy, like me, earth has its caverns and ocean 
its islands. And so once more I hurried to Tenochtitlan. 
Yesterday I crossed the lake. From the Chalcan I heard 
the story which alone was needed to make my humiliation 
complete, — how Nenetzin, false to me, betrayed the great 
purpose of her father, betook herself to the stranger’s house, 
adopted his religion, and became his wife or — spare me the 
word, good ’tzin. After that, I lost no time, but went to 
the palace, made way through the pale-faced guards at the 
gate and doors, each of whom seemed placed there to at- 
test the good king’s condition and my infamy. Suitors 
and lords of all degrees crowded the audience-chamber when 
I entered, and upon every face was the same look of sorrow 
and dejection which I had noticed upon the faces of the 
people whom I passed in the street. All who turned eyes 
upon me appeared to become accusers, and say, ‘ Traitor, be- 
hold thy victim ! ’ Imagine the pressure upon my spirit. I 
made haste to get away, — unseemly haste. What my salu- 
tation was I hardly know. I only remember that, in some 
form of speech, I publicly resigned all his honorable gifts. I 
remember, also, that when I took what I thought was my last 
look at him, — friend, patron, king, father, — may the gods, 
who have forbidden the relation, forgive the allusion ! — 
I could not see him for tears. My heart is in my throat 
now ; then it nearly choked me. And so ends my account. 
And once more, true friend, I come to you, Hualpa, the 
Tihuancan, without title, palace, or privilege ; without dis- 


THE LORD HUALPA FLEES HIS FORTUNE. 345 


tinction* except as the hero and victim of a marvellous for- 
tune.” 

The ’tzin was too deeply touched, too full of sympathy, to 
reply immediately. He arose, and paced the arena awhile. 
Eesuming his seat again, he asked simply, And what said 
the king 1 ” 

“ To what ] ” 

“ Your resignation.” 

“ He refused to take hack his gifts. They could not revert, 
he said, except for crime.” 

“ And he was right. You should have known him better. 
A king cannot revoke a gift in any form.” 

After a spell of silence, the ’tzin spoke again. 

“One matter remains. You are not guilty, as you sup- 
posed ; your friends have not lost their faith in you ; such 
being the case, it were strange if your feelings are as when 
you came here ; and as purposes too often follow feelings, I 
ask about the future. What do you intend 1 What wish ] ” 

“ I see you understand me well, good 'tzin. My folly has 
been so great that I feel myself unworthy to be my own mas- 
ter. I ought not to claim a purpose, much less a wish. I 
came to your door seeking to be taken back into service ; 
that was all the purpose I had. I rely upon your exceeding 
kindness.” 

Hualpa moved as if to kneel ; but the ’tzin caught him, 
and said, “ Keep your seat.” And rising, he continued, se- 
verely, “ Lord Hualpa, — for such you still are, — all men, 
even the best, are criminals ; but as for the most part their 
crimes are against themselves, we take no notice of them. 
In that sense you are guilty, and in such degree that you 
deserve forfeiture of all the king refused to take back. Eut 
pass we that, — pass the folly, the misconduct. I will not 
take you into service ; you have your old place of friend and 
comrade, more fitting your rank.” 

15 * 


346 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Hualpa’s face brightened, and he answered, — 

“ Command me, 0 ’tzin ! With you I can be brave war- 
rior, good citizen, true friend ; without you, I am noth' 
ing. Whatever the world thinks of me, this I know, — I 
can reinstate myself in its good opinion before I can in 
my own. Show me the way back to self-respect; restore 
me that, and I will be your slave, soldier, comrade, — what 
you will.” 

“ It is well,” said Guatamozin, smiling at his earnestness. 
“ It is weU. I can show you the way. Listen. The war, 
about which we have so often talked, thanks to the gods ! is 
finally at hand. The public opinion has done its work. The 
whole nation would throw itself upon the strangers to-mor- 
row, but for the king, who has become their shield ; and he 
must be rescued ; otherwise, we must educate the people to 
see in him an enemy to be removed. We cannot spare the 
time for that, and consequently have tried rescue in many 
ways, so far in vain. To-morrow we try again. The plot 
is arranged and cannot fail, except by the king’s own default. 
Reserving explanation, I congratulate you. You are in 
time ; the good fortune clings to you. To-morrow I will set 
your feet in the way you seek.” 

Hualpa gazed at him doubtingly. ** To-morrow ! ” he said. 
“ Will you trust me so soon, and in a matter so high 1 ” 

Yes.” 

Will my part take me from you 1 ” 

No.”* 

Then I thank you for the opportunity. On the feocallisy 
that dreadful morning, I lost my assurance ; whether it will 
ever return is doubtful ; but with you, at your side, I dare 
walk in any way.” 

“ I understand you,” the ’tzin replied. “ Go now, and get 
ready. Unless the king fail us, we will have combat requir- 
ing all our strength. . To the bath first, then to breakfast, 


WHOM THE GODS DESTROY THEY FIRST MAKE MAD. 347 


then to find more seemly garments, then to rest. I give 
you to midnight. Go.” 


CHAPTER II. 

WHOM THE GODS DESTROY THEY FIRST MAKE MAD. 

HE morning after Hualpa’s return Xoli, the Chalcan, 



as was his wont, passed through his many rooms, mak- 
ing what may be called a domestic reconnoissance. 

What ! ” he cried, perplexed. “ How is this 1 The 
house is empty ! Where are all the lords 1 ” 

The slaves to whom he spoke shook their heads. 

Have there been none for breakfast 1 ” 

Again they shook their heads. 

“Nor for pulque f ” 

Not one this morning,” they replied. 

‘‘Not even for a draught of pulque ! Wonderful ! ” cried 
the broker, bewildered and amazed. Then he hurried to 
his steward, soliloquizing as he went, “ Not one for break- 
fast ; not even a draught of pulque ! Holy gods, to what is 
the generation coming 1 ” 

The perplexity of the good man was not without cause. 
The day the king removed to the palace of Axaya’, the royal 
hospitality went with him, and had thenceforth been admin- 
istered there ; but though no less princely and profuse than 
before, imder the new regime it was overshadowed by the 
presence of the strangers, and for that reason became dis- 
tasteful to the titled personages accustomed to its enjoyment. 
Consequently, owners of palaces in the city betook them- 
selves to their own boards ; others, especially non-residents, 
quartered with the Chalcan ; as a further result, his house 


348 


THE FAIR GOD. 


assumed the style of a meson, with accommodations equal ty 
those of the palace ; such, at least, was the disloyal whisper, 
and I am sorry to say Xoli did not repudiate the impeach- 
ment as became a lover of the king. And such eating, 
drinking, playing, sUch conspiring and plotting, such politi- 
cal discussion, such transactions in brokerage went on daily 
and nightly under his roof as were never before known. 
Now all this was broken off. The silence was not more 
frightful than unprofitable. 

“ Steward, steward ! ” said Xoli to that functionary, dis- 
tinguished by the surpassing whiteness of his apron. “ What 
has befallen 1 Where are the patrons this morning 1 ” 

“Good master, the most your slave knows is, that last 
night a paba from the great temple passed through the cham- 
bers, after which, very shortly, every guest departed.” 

“ A paba, a paba ! ” And Xoli was more than ever per 
plexed. “ Heard you what he said 1 ” 

“ Not a word.” 

“ About what time did he come 1 ” 

“ After midnight.” 

“ And that is all you know T ’ 

The steward bowed, and Xoli passed distractedly to th^ 
front door, only to find the portico as deserted as the cham- 
bers. Sight of the people beginning to collect in the square, 
however, brought him some relief, and he hailed the first pass- 
ing acquaintance. 

“ A pleasant morning to you, neighbor.” 

“ The same to you.” 

“ Have you any news 1 ” 

“ None, except I hear of a crowd of pabas in the city, 
come, as rumor says, from Tezcuco, Cholula, Iztapalapan, 
and other lake towns.” 

“ When did they come 1 ” 

“ In the night.” 


WHOM THE GODS DESTROY THEY FIRST MAKE MAD. 349 


“ Oho ! There 's something afoot.” And Xoli wiped the 
perspiration from his forehead. 

“ So there is,” the neighbor replied. The king goes to 
the temple to worship to-day.” 

A light broke in upon the Chalcan. “ True, true ; I had 
forgotten.” 

“ Such is the talk,” the citizen continued. “ Will you be 
there ? Everybody is going.” 

“ Certainly,” answered Xoli, dryly. “ If I do not go, 
everybody will not be there. Look for me. The gods keep 
you ! ” 

And with that, he re-entered his house, satisfied, but not 
altogether quieted ; wandering restlessly from chamber to 
chamber, he asked himself continually, “ Why so many 
pabas ] And why do they come in the night ] And what 
can have taken the lords away so silently, and at such a 
time, — without breakfast, — without even a draught of 
‘pulque ? ” 

Invariably these interrogatories were followed by appeals 
to the great ebony jar of snuff; after sneezing, he would 
answer himself, ‘‘ Pabas for worship, lords and soldiers 
for fighting ; but pabas and soldiers together ! Something is 
afoot. I will stay at home, and patronize myself. And yet 
— and yet — they might have told me something about 
it ! ” 

' # * % # # 

About ten o’clock — to count the time as Christians do — . 
the king issued from the old palace, going in state to the 
teocallis, attended by a procession of courtiers, warriom, and 
pabas. He was borne in an open palanquin, shaded by the 
detached canopy, the whole presenting a spectacle of im' 
perial splendor. 

The movement was slow and stately, through masses of 
people on the pavements, under the gaze of other thousands 


350 


THE FAIR GOD. 


on the housetops ; but neither the banners, nor the music, 
nor the pomp, nor the king himself, though fully exposed to 
view, amused or deceived the people ; for at the right and 
left of the carriage walked Lugo, Alvarado, Avila, and 
I.eon ; next, Olmedo, distinguishable from the native clergy 
by his shaven crown, and the cross he carried aloft on the 
shaft of a lance ; after him, concluding the procession, one 
hundred and fifty Spaniards, ready for battle. Priesthood, 

— king, — the strangers ! Clearer, closer, more inevitable, 
in the eyes of the people, arose the curse of Quetzal’. 

When the monarch alighted at the foot of the first stair- 
way of the temple, the multitude far and near knelt, and so 
remained until the pabas, delegated for tile purpose, took 
him in their arms to carry him to the azoteas. Four times 
in the passage of the terraces the cortege came in view from 
the side toward the palace, climbing, as it were, to the Sun ; 

— dimmer the holy symbols, fainter the solemn music ; and 
each time the people knelt. The unfortunate going to wor- 
ship was still the great king ! 

A detachment of Christians, under De Morla, preceded 
the procession as an advance-guard. Greatly were they sur- 
prised at what they found on the azoteas. Behind Tlalac, at 
the head of the last stairway, were a score or more of 
naked boys, swinging smoking censers ; yet farther toward 
the tower or sanctuary of Huitzil’ was an assemblage of dan- 
cing priestesses, veiled, rather than dressed, in gauzy robes 
and scarfs ; from the steps to the door of the sanctuary a 
passage-way had been left ; elsewhere the sacred area was 
occupied by pabas, drawn up in ranks close and scrupu- 
lously ordered. Like their pontiff, each of them wore a 
gown of black ; but while his head was bare, theirs were 
covered by hoods. Thus arranged, — silent, motionless, more 
like phantoms than men, — they both shocked and dis- 
quieted the Spaniards. Indeed, so sensible were the latter 


WHOM THE GODS DESTROY THEY FIRST MAKE MAD. 351 


of the danger of their position, alone and unsupported in 
the face of an array so dismal and solid, that many of them 
fell to counting their beads and muttering Aves. 

A savage dissonance greeted the king when he was set 
down on the azoteas, and simultaneously the pabas burst 
into a hymn, and from the urn over the tower a denser 
column of smoke arose, sIoav mounting, but erelong visible 
throughout the valley. Half bending, he received the bless- 
ing of Tlalac ; then the censer-bearers swept around him ; 
then, too, jangling silver bells and beating calabashes, the 
priestesses began to dance ; in the midst of the salutation, 
the arch-priest, moving backward, conducted him slowly 
toward the entrance of the sanctuary. At his side strode 
the four cavaliers. The escort of Christians remained out- 
side ; yet the pabas knew the meaning of their presence, 
and their hymn deepened into a wail ; the great king had 
gone before his god — a prisoner ! 

The interior of the sanctuary was in ordinary condi- 
tion ; the floor and the walls black with the blood of vic- 
tims ; the air foul and sickening, despite the smoking cen- 
sers and perfuming pans. The previous visit had prepared 
the cavaliers for these horrors ; nevertheless, a cry broke 
from them upon their entrance. In a chafing-dish before 
the altar four human hearts were slowly burning to coals ! 

“ Jesu Christo ! ” exclaimed Alvarado. “ Did not the 
pagans promise there should be no sacrifice ] Shrieve me 
never, if I toss not the contents of yon dish into the god’s 
face ! ” 

“ Stay ! ” cried Olmedo, seizing his arm. “ Stir not ! 
The business is mine. As thou lovest God, — the true God, 
— get thee to thy place ! ” 

The father spoke firmly, and the captain, grinding his 
teeth with rage, submitted. 

The pedestal of the idol was of stone, square in form, and 


352 


THE FAIR GOD. 


placed in the centre of the sanctuary. Several broad steps, 
fronting the doorway, — door there was not, — assisted dev- 
otees up to a platform, upon which stood a table curiously 
carved, and resting, as it were, , under the eyes of the god. 
The chamber, bare of furniture, was crowded with pabas, 
kneeling and hooded and ranked, like their brethren outside. 
The cavaliers took post by the entrance, with Olmedo be- 
tween them and the altar. Two priests, standing on the 
lower step, seemed waiting to assist in the ceremonial, 
although, at the time, apparently absorbed in prayer. 

Tlalac led the monarch by the hand up the steps. 

“ 0 king,” he said, “ the ears of the god are open. He 
will hear you. And as to these companions in devotion,” 
he pointed to the assistants as he spoke, “ avoid them not : 
they are here to pray for you ; if need be, to die for you. If 
they speak, be not surprised, but heed them well ; what 
they say will concern you, and all you best love.” 

Thereupon the arch-infidel let go the royal hand, and 
descended the steps, moving backward ; upon the floor he 
continued his movement. Suddenly he stopped, turned, and 
was face to face with Olmedo ; all the passions of his savage 
nature blazed in his countenance ; in reply, the Christian 
priest calmly held up the cross, and smiled, and was content. 

Meantime the monarch kissed the altar, and, folding his 
hands upon his breast, was beginning to be abstracted in 
prayer, when he heard himself addressed. 

“ Look not this way, 0 king, nor stir ; but listen.” 

The words, audible throughout the chamber, proceeded 
from the nearest devotee, — a tall man, well muffled in gown 
and hood. The monarch' controlled himself, and listened, 
while the speaker continued in a slow, monotonous manner, 
designed to leave the cavaliers, whom he knew to be observ- 
ing him, in doubt whether he was praying or intoning some 
part of the service of the occasion, — 


WHOM THE GODS DESTROY THEY FIRST MAKE MAD. 353 


“ It is in the streets and in the palaces, and has gone 
forth into the provinces, that MontezAima is the willing guest 
of the strangers, and that from great love of them and their 
society, he will not come iiway, although his Empire is dis- 
solving, and the religion of his fathers menaced by a new 
one ; but know, 0 king, that the chiefs and caciques refuse 
to credit the evil spoken of you, and, believing you a prisoner, 
are resolved to restore you to freedom. Know further, 0 
king, that this is the time chosen for the rescue. The way 
back to the throne is clear; you have only to go hence. What 
says the king 1 The nation awaits his answer.” 

“ The throne is inseparable from me, — is where I am, 
under my feet always,” answered the monarch, coldly. 

“And there may it remain forever!” said the devotee, 
with fervor. “ I only meant to pray you to come from 
amongst the strangers, and set it once more where it belongs, 
— amongst the loving hearts that gave it to you. Misunder- 
stand me not, 0 king. Short time have we for words. The 
enemy is present. I offer you rescue and liberty.” 

“ To offer me liberty is to deny that I am free. Who is he 
that proposes to give me what is mine alone to give 1 I am 
with Huitzir. Who comes thus between me and the god ? ” 

From the pabas in the chamber there was a loud murmur ; 
but as the king and devotee retained their composure, and, 
like praying men, looked steadily at the face of Huitzil’, the 
cavaliers remained unsuspicious observers of what was to 
them merely a sinful ceremony. 

“lam the humblest, though not the least loving, of all 
your subjects,” the devotee answered. 

“ The name % ” said the king. “ You ask me to go hence : 
wliither and with whom 1 ” 

“ Know me without speaking my name, 0 king. I am 
your brother’s son.” 

Montezuma was visibly affected. Afterwhile he said, — - 


354 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“Speak further. Consider what you have said true, — 
that I am a prisoner, that the strangers present are my 
guards, — what are the means of rescue 1 Speak, that I 
may judge of them. Conspiracy is abroad, and I do not 
choose to be blindly led from what is called my prison to 
a tomb.” 

To the reasonable demand the 'tzin calmly replied, “ That 
you were coming to worship to-day, and the conditions upon 
which you had permission to come, I learned from the 
teoiuctli. I saw the opportunity, and proposed to attempt 
your rescue. In Tlalac the gods have a faithful servant, and 
you, 0 king, a tme lover. When you were received upon 
the azoteas j you did not fail to notice the pabas. Never 
before in any one temple have there been so many assembled. 
They are the instruments of the rescue.” 

“ The instruments ! ” exclaimed the king, unable to repress 
his scorn. 

The ’tzin interposed hastily. “ Beware ! Though what 
we say is not understood by the stmngers, their faculties are 
sharp, and very little may awaken their suspicion and alarm ; 
and if our offer be rejected, better for you, 0 king, that 
they go hence ignorant of their danger and our design. 
Yes, if your conjecture were true, if we did indeed propose 
to face the teules with barehanded pabas, your scorn would 
be justified ; but know that the concourse on the azoteas 
is, in fact, of chiefs and caciques, whose gowns do but conceal 
their preparation for battle.” 

A pang contracted the monarch’s face, and his hands closed 
harder ujwn his breast ; possibly he shuddered at the neces- 
sity so thrust upon him of deciding between Malinche 
whom he feared, and the people whom he so loved. 

“ Yes,” continued the ’tzin, “ here are the chosen of the 
realm, — the noblest and the best, — each with his life in 
his hand, an offering to you. What need of further words 1 


WHOM THE GODS DESTROY THEY FIRST MAKE MAD. 355 


You have not forgotten the habits of war ; you divine the 
object of the concourse of priests ; you understand they are 
formed in ranks, that, upon a signal, they may throw them- 
selves as one man upon the strangers. Here in the sanctuary 
are fifty more with maquahuitls ; behind them a door has 
been constructed to pass you quickly to the azoteas; they 
will help me keep the door, and stay pursuit, while you de- 
scend to the street. And now, 0 king, said I not rightly*? 
What have you to do more than go hence *? Dread not for 
us. In the presence of Huitzil’, and in defence of his altar, 
we will fight. If we fall in such glorious combat, he will 
waft our souls straighrivay to the Sun.” 

“ My son,” the king answered, after a pause, “ if I were a 
prisoner, I would say you and the lords have done well ; 
but, being free and pursuing my own policy, I reject the 
rescue. Go your ways in peace ; leave me to my prayers. In 
a few days the strangers will depart ; then, if not sooner, I 
will come back as you wish, and bring the old time with me, 
and make all the land happy.” 

The monarch ceased. He imagined the question answered 
and passed ; but a murmur, almost a groan, recalled him from 
the effort to abstract himself And then the teotuctli, exer- 
cising his privilege, went to him, and, laying a hand upon his 
arm, and pointing up to the god, said, — 

“ Hearken, 0 king ! The strangers have already asked 
you to allow them to set up an altar here in the house of 
Huitzil’, that they may worship their god after their manner. 
The request was sacrilege ; listening to it, a sin ; to grant it 
would make you accursed forever. Save yourself and the god, 
by going hence as the lords have besought. Be wise in 
time.” 

“ I have decided,” said the poor king, in a trembling voice, 
— “I have decided.” 

Tlalac looked to the ’tzin despairingly. The appeal to the 


356 


THE FAIR GOD. 


monarch’s veneration for the god of his fathers had failed ; 
what else remained ? And the ’tzin for the first time looked 
to the king, saying sorrowfully, — 

“ Anahuac is the common mother, as Huitzil’ is the father. 
The foot of the stranger is heavy on her breast, and she cries 
aloud, ‘ Where is Montezuma 1 Where is the Lord of the 
Earth 1 Where is the Child of the Sun 1 ’ ” 

And silence hung heavy in the sanctuary, and the waiting 
was painful. Again the ’tzin’s voice, — 

“ A bride sits in the house waiting. Love puts its songs 
in her mouth, and kindles her smiles with the dazzle of stars. 
But the bridegroom lingers, and the evening and the morn- 
ing bring him not. Ah, what is she, though ever so beauti- 
ful and sweet-singing, when he comes not, and may never 
come 1 0 king, you are the lingering lord, and Anahuac 

the waiting bride ; as you love her, come.” 

The fated king covered his face with his hands, as if, by 
shutting out the light, to find relief from pangs too acute for 
endurance. Minutes passed, — minutes of torture to him, 
and of breathless expectancy to all present, except the cava- 
liers, who, unconscious of peril, watched the scene with in- 
difference, or rather the scornful curiosity natural to men 
professing a purer and diviner faith. At last his hand dropped, 
and he said with dignity, — 

“ Let this end now, — so I command. My explanation 
must be accepted. I cannot understand why, if you love me 
as you say, you should receive my word with so little credit ; 
and if you can devote yourselves so entirely to me, why 
can you not believe me capable of equal devotion to my- 
self 1 Hear me once more. I do not love the strangers. I 
hope yet to see them sacrificed to Huitzil’. They promise in 
a few days to leave the country, and I stay with them to 
hasten their departure, and, in the mean time, shield you, the 
nation, the temples, and the gods, from their power, which 


THE PUBLIC OPINION MAKES WAY. 


357 


is past finding out. Therefore, let no blow be struck at them, 
here or elsewhere, without my order. I am yet the king. Let 
me have peace. Peace be with you ! I have spoken.” 

The ’tzin looked once to heaven, as if uttering a last ap- 
peal, or calling it to witness a vow, then he fell upon his 
knees ; he, too, had despaired. And as if the feeling 
were contagious, the teotuctli knelt, and in the sanctuary 
there was stillness consistent with worship, save when some 
overburdened breast relieved itself by a sigh, a murmur, or 
a groan. 

And history tells how Montezuma remained a little while 
at the altar, and went peacefully back to his residence with 
the strangers. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE PUBLIC OPINION MAKES WAY. 

I N the tianguez, one market-day, there was an immense 
crowd, yet trade was dull ; indeed, comparatively noth- 
ing in that way was being done, although the display of com- 
modities was rich and tempting. 

“ Holy gods, what is to become of us V cried a Cholulan 
merchant. 

“ You ! You are rich. Dulness of the market cannot 
hurt you. But I, — I am going to ruin.” 

The second speaker was a slave-dealer. Only the day be- 
fore, he had, at great cost, driven into the city a large train 
of his “ stock ” from the wilderness beyond the Great River. 

“ Tell me, my friend,” said a third party, addressing the 
slave-dealer, though in hearing of the whole company, 
“ heard you ever of a slave owning a slave 1 ” 

“ Not I.” 


358 


THE FAIB GOD. 


“ Heard you ever of a man going into the market to buy 
a slave, when he was looking to become one himself ] ” 

“ Never.” 

“You have it then, — the reason nobody has been to your 
exhibition.” 

The bystanders appeared to assent to the proposition, which 
all understood but the dealer in men, who begged an explana- 
tion. 

“ Yes, yes. You have just come home. I had forgot- 
ten. A bad time to be abroad. But listen, friend.” The 
speaker quietly took his pipe from his mouth, and knocked 
the ashes out of the bowl. “We belong to Malinche ; you 
know who he is.” 

“ I am not so certain,” the dealer replied, gravely. “ The 
most I can say is, I have heard of him.” 

“ 0, he is a god — ” 

“ With aU a man’s wants and appetites,” interposed one. 

“ Yes, I was about to say that. For instance, day before 
yesterday he sent down the king’s order for three thousand 
escaupiles. What need — ” 

“ They were for his Tlascalans.” 

“ 0, possibly. For whom were the cargoes of cotton cloth 
delivered yesterday % ” 

“ His women,” answered the other, quickly. 

“ And the two thousand sandals % ” 

“ For his soldiers 1 ” 

“And the gold of which the market was cleaned last 
week % And the gold now being hunted in . Tustepec and 
Chinantla 1 And the tribute being levied so harshly in all 
the provinces, — for whom are they % ” 

“ For Malinche himself.” 

“ Yes, the god Malinche. Slave of a slave ! My friend,” 
said the chief speaker to the slave-dealer, “ there is no such 
relation known to the law, and for that reason we cannot 


THE PUBLIC OPINION MAKES WAY. 


359 


buy of you. Better go back with all you have, and let the 
wilderness have its own again.” 

“ But the goods of which you spoke ; certainly they were 
paid for,” said the dealer, turning pale. 

“No. There is nothing left of the royal revenue. Even 
the treasure which the last king amassed, and walled up in 
the old palace, has been given to Malinche. The empire is 
like a man in one respect, at least, — when beggared, it cam 
not pay.” 

“ And the king 1 ” 

“ He is Malinche’s, too.” 

“Yes,” added the bystander; “for nowadays we never 
see his signet, except in the hands of one of the strangers.” 

The dealer in men drew a long breath, something as near 
a sigh as could come from one of his habits, and said, “I re- 
member Mualox and his prophecy ; and, hearing these things, 
I know not what to think.” 

“We have yet one hope,” said the chief spokesman, as if 
desirous of concluding the conversation. 

“ And that 1 ” 

“ Is the ’tzin Guatamo.” 

* * if * * 

“ What luck, Pepite 1 ” 

“ Bad, very bad.” 

The questioner was the wife of the man questioned, who 
had just returned from the market. Throwing aside his empty 
baskets, he sat down in the shade of a bridge spanning one 
of the canals, and, locking his hands across his bare knees, 
looked gloomily in the water. His canoe, with others, was 
close at hand. 

The wife, without seeming to notice his dejection, busied 
herself setting out their dinner, which was humble as them- 
selves, being of boiled maize, tuna figs, and tecuitlatl, or 
cheese of the lake. When the man began to eat, he began 


360 


THE FAIR GOD. 


to talk, — a peculiarity in which he was not altogether sin- 
gular. 

“ Bad luck, very bad,” he repeated. “ I took my baskets 
to the old stand. The flowers were fresh and sweet, gathered, 
you know, only last night. The market was full of people, 
many of whom I knew to he rich enough to buy at two 
prices ; they came, and looked, and said, * They are very 
nice, Pepite, very nice,’ hut did not offer to buy. By and 
by the sun went up, and stood overhead, and still no pur- 
chaser, not even an offer. It was very discouraging, I tell 
you ; and it would have been much more so, if I had not 
pretty soon noticed that the market-people around me, fruit- 
erers and florists, were doing no better than I. Then I 
walked about to see my friends ; and in the porticos and 
booths as elsewhere in the square, — no trade ; plenty 
of people, but no trade. The jewellers had covered their 
fronts with flowers, — I never saw richer, — you should have 
been there ! — and crowds stood about breathing the sweet 
perfume ; hut as to purchasing, they did nothing of the sort. 
In fact, may the mitlou * of our little house fly away to- 
night, if, in the whole day, I saw an instance of trade, or so 
much as a cocoa-bean pass from one hand to another ! ” 

“ It has been so many days now, only not quite so had, 
Pepite,” the wife said, struggling to talk cheerfully. “ What 
did they say was the cause ] Did any one speak of that 1 ” 

“ 0 yes, everybody. Nothing else was talked. * What 
is the use of working? Why buy or sell? We have no 
longer a king or country. We are all slaves now. We 
belong to Malinche. Afterwhile, because we are poor, 
he will take us off to some of his farms, like that one he 
has down in Oajaca, and set us to working, and keep the 
fruits, while he gives us the pains. No, we do not want 


* Household god of the lowest grade. 


THE PUBLIC OPINION MAKES WAY. 


361 


anything; the less we have, the lighter will be our going 
down.’ That is the way the talk went all day.” 

For the first time the woman threw off her pretence 
of cheerfulness, and was still, absorbed in listening and 
thinking. 

“ Belong to Malinche ! We 1 And our little ones at 
home ? Not while the gods live ! ” she said, confi- 
dently. 

“ Why not 1 You forget. Malinche is himself a god.” 

A doubt shook the strong faith of the wife ; and soon, 
gloomy and hopeless as Pepite, she sat down by him, and 
partook of the humble fare. 

***** 

“ The nation is dying. Let us elect another king,” said 
an old cacique to a crowd of nobles, of whom he was the 
centre, in the pulque chamber of the Chalcan. Bold words, 
which, half a year before, would have been punished on the 
spot ; now, they were heard in silence, if not with approba- 
tion. “ A king has no right to survive his glory,” the 
veteran continued ; “ and how may one describe his shame 
and guilt, when, from fear of death, he suffers an enemy to 
use him, and turn his power against his people ! ” 

He stopped, and for a time the hush was threatening; 
then there was clapping of hands, and voices cried out, — 
“ Good, good ! ” 

“ May the gods forgive me, and witness that the speech 
was from love of country, not hatred of Montezuma,” said 
the cacique, deferentially. 

“ Whom would you have in his place 1 Name him,” 
shouted an auditor. 

“ Montezuma, — if he will come back to us.” 

“ He will not ; he has already refused. Another, — give 
us another ! ” 

“ Be it so ! ” said the veteran, with decision. “ My life 
16 


362 


THE FAIR GOD. 


is forfeit for what I have said. The cell that holds the king 
Cacama and the good lord Cuitlahua yawns for me also. I 
will speak.” Quaffing a howl of pulque^ he added, “ Of all 
Anahuac, 0 my brothers, who, with the fewest years, is 
wisest of head and bravest of heart, and therefore fittest to 
be king in time like this % ” 

The question was of the kind that addresses itself pecu- 
liarly to individual preferences, — the kind which has af- 
flicted the world with its saddest and greatest wars ; yet, 
strange to say, the company, as mth one voice, and in- 
stantly, answered, — 

“ The ’tzin, the ’tzin. Guatamo, the 'tzin ! ” 

* * * # # 

In the evening time three pabas clomb the stairs by which 
the top of the turret of Huitzil’ on the teocallis was reached 
from the azoteas. Arrived at the top, they found there the 
night-watcher, who recognized the teotuctliy and knelt to 
him. 

“ Arise, and get you down now,” the arch priest said ; 
“ we would be alone awhile.” 

On a pedestal of stone, or rather of many stones, rested 
the brazier, or urn, that held the sacred fire. In it crackled 
the consuming fagots, while over it, with unsteady bril- 
liancy, leaped the flames which, for so many leagues away, 
were as a beacon in the valley. The three stopped in the 
shadow of the urn, and might have studied the city, or 
those subjects greater and more fascinating, — mysteries 
now, to-night, forever, — Space, and its children, the Stars ; 
but it was not to indulge a common passion or uncertain 
speculations that Tlalac had brought from their temples 
and altars his companions, the high-priests of Cholula and 
Tezcuco. And there for a long time they remained, the 
grave and holy servants of the gods of the Hew World, 
talking earnestly, on what subject and with what conclusion 
we may gather. 


THE PUBLIC OPINION MAKES WAY. 


363 


“ He is of ns no longer,” said Tlalac, impressively. “ He 
has abandoned his people ; to a stranger he has surrendered 
himself, his throne and power ; he spends his days learning, 
from a new priesthood, a new creed, and the things that per- 
tain to a god of whom everything is unknown to us, ex- 
cept that he is the enemy of our gods. I bore his desertion 
patiently, as we always bear with those we love. By per- 
mission, as you heard, he came one day to worship Huitzil’ ; 
the permission was on condition that there should be no 
sacrifices. Worship without sacrifice, my brethren ! Can 
such thing be ? When he came, he was offered rescue ; the 
preparations were detailed to him ; he knew they could not 
fail; the nobles begged him to accept the ofier; I warned 
him against refusal ; yet, of choice, he went back to Ma- 
linche. Then patience almost forsook me. Next, as you 
also know, came the unpardonable sin. In the chamber be- 
low — the chamber sanctified by the presence of the mighty 
Huitzil’ — I will give you to see, if you wish, a profanation 
the like of which came never to the most wicked dream of 
the most wicked Aztec, — an altar to the new and unknown 
God. And to-morrow, if you have the curiosity, I will give 
you to see the further sight, — a service, mixed of singing 
and prayer, by priests of the strange God, at the same time, 
and side by side with the worship of our gods, — all with 
the assent — nay, by order — of Montezuma. Witness these 
crimes once, and your patience will go quickly, whereas 
mine went slowly; but it is gone, and in its stead lives 
only the purpose to do what the gods command.” 

“ Let us obey the gods ! ” said the reverend high-priest of 
Cholula. 

“ Let us obey the gods ! ” echoed his holy brother of 
Tezcuco. 

“ Hear me, then,” said Tlalac, with increased fervor. “ I 
will give their command. * Eaise up a new king, and save 


364 


THE FAIR GOD. 


yourselves, by saving our worship in the land ! ^ so the gods 
say. And I am ready.” 

“ But the law,” said the Tezcucan. 

“ By the law,” answered Tlalac, “ there can be kings only 
in the order of election.” 

“ And so ? ” 

“ Montezuma — must — die ! ” 

Tlalac said these terrible words slowly, but firmly. 

“ And who will be the instrument ] ” they asked. 

Let us trust the gods,” he answered. “ For love of 
them men go down to death every day ; and of the many 
lovers, doubt not some one will be found to do their bid- 
ding.” 

And so it was agreed. 

* # # # # 

And so, slowly but surely, the Public Opinion made its 
way, permeating all classes, — laborers, merchants, warriors, 
and priests. 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE 'tZIn’S farewell TO QUETZAL*. 

I F I were writing history, it would delight me to linger 
over the details of Cortes’ management after the arrest 
of Montezuma ; for in them were blent, fairly as ever before 
seen, the grand diversities of war, politics, and governmental 
administration. Anticipating interference from the head- 
<iuarters in Cuba, he exercised all his industry and craft to 
recommend himself directly to his Majesty, the Emperor 
Charles. The interference at last came in the form of a 
grand expedition under Panfilo de Narvaez ; but in the in- 
terval, — a period of little more than five months, — he had 


THE ’TZIN’S FAREWELL TO QUETZAL’. 


365 


practically reduced the new discovery to possession, as at- 
tested by numerous acts of sovereignty, — such, for instance, 
as the coast of the gulf surveyed ; colonies established ; 
plantations opened and worked with profit ; tribute levied ; 
high officiafe arrested, disseized, and executed ; the collection 
and division of a treasure greater than ever before seen by 
Christians in the ^^ew World; communication with the cap- 
ital secured by armed brigantines on the lakes ; the cross set 
up and maintained in the teocallis ; and last, and, by custom 
of the civilized world, most absolute, Montezuma brought to 
acknowledge vassalage and swear allegiance to the Emperor ; 
and withal, so perfect was the administration of affairs, that 
a Spaniard, though alone, was as safe in the defiles between 
Vera Cruz and Tenochtitlan as he would have been in the 
caminos reales of old Spain, as free in the great tianguez as 
on the quay of Cadiz. 

Narvaez’s expedition landed in May, six months after 
Cortes entered Tenochtitlan ; and to that time I now beg to 
advance my reader. 

Cortes himself is down in Cempoalla; having defeated 
Narvaez, he is lingering to gather the fruits of his extraor- 
dinary victory. In the capital Alvarado is commanding, 
supported by the Tlascalans, and about one hundred and 
fifty Christians. Under his administration, affairs have 
gone rapidly from bad to worse ; and in selecting him for 
a trust so delicate and important, Cortes has made his first 
serious mistake. 

■K. ■»■}(■* -k- 

At an early hour in the evening Mualox came out of the 
sanctuary of his Cfi, bearing an armful of the flowers which 
had been used in the decoration of the altar. The good 
man’s hair and beard were whiter than when last I noticed 
him ; he was also feebler, and more stooped ; so the time 
is not far distant when Quetzal’ will lose his last and 


366 


THE FAIR GOD. 


most faithful servant. As he was about to ascend the stair- 
way of the tower, his name was called, and, stopping, he was 
overtaken hy two men. 

“ Guatamozin I ” he exclaimed, in surprise. 

“ Be not alarmed, father, but put down your •burden, and 
rest awhile. My friend here, the lord Hualpa, has brought 
me news, which calls me away. Best, therefore, and give 
me time for thanks and explanation.” 

“ What folly is this ? ” asked Mualox, hastily, and with- 
out noticing Hualpa’s salutation. “ Go back to the cell. 
The hunters are abroad and vigilant as ever. I will cast 
these faded offerings into the fire, and come to you.” 

The Tzin was in the guise of a paba. To quiet the 
good man’s alarm, he drew closer the hood that covered 
his head, remarking, “ The hunters will not come. Giv& 
Hualpa the offerings ; he will carry them for you.” 

Hualpa took them, and left ; then Mualox said, “ I am 
ready to hear. Speak.” 

“ Good father,” the ’tzin began, “ not long since, in the 
sanctuary there, you told me — I well remember the words — 
that the existence of my country depended upon my action ; 
by which I understood you to prefigure for me an honorable, 
if not fortunate, destmy. I believe you had faith in what 
you said ; for on many occasions since you have exerted 
yourself in my behalf. That I ami not now a prisoner in the 
old palace with Cacama and the lord Cuitlahua is due to you ; 
indeed, if it be true, as I was told, that the king gave me 
to Malinche to be dealt with as he chose, I owe you my life. 
These are the greatest debts a man can be bound for j I ac- 
knowledge them, and, if the destiny should be fortunate as 
we hope, will pay them richly ; but now all I can give you 
is my thanks, and what I know you will better regard, — my 
solemn promise to protect this sacred property of the holy 
Quetzal’. Take the thanks and the promise, and let me have 
your blessing. I wish now to go.” 


THE ’TZIN’S farewell TO QUETZAL’. 


367 


“ Whither 1 ” asked Mualox. 

“ To the people. They have called me ; the lord Hualpa 
brings me their message.” 

“No, you will not go,” said the paha, reproachfully. 
“ Your resolution is only an impulse ; impatience is not a 
purpose ; and — and here are peace, and safety, and a holy 
presence.” 

“ But honor, father, — ” 

“ That will come by waiting.” 

“ Alas ! ” said the ’tzin, bitterly, “ I have waited too long 
already. I have most dismal news. When Malinche 
marched to Cempoalla, he left in command here the red- 
haired chief whom we call Tonatiah. This, you know, is 
the day of the incensing of Huitzil’ — ” 

“ I know, my son, — an awful day ! The day of cruel 
sacrifice, itself a defiance of Quetzal’.” 

“ What ! ” said Guatamozin, in angry surprise. “ Are you 
not an Aztec % ” 

“Yes, an Aztec, and a lover of his god, the true god, 
whose return he knows to be near, and,” — to gather energy 
of expression, he paused, then raised his hands as if flinging 
the words to a listener overhead, — “ and whom he would 
welcome, though the land be swimming in the blood of un- 
believers.” 

The violence and incoherency astonished the ’tzin, and as 
he looked at the paba fixedly, he was sensible for the first 
time of a fear that the good man’s mind was affected. And 
he considered his age and habits, his days and years spent in 
a great, cavernous house, without amusement, without com- 
panionship, without varied occupation; for the thinker, it 
must be remembered, knew nothing of Tecetl or the world 
she made so delightful. Moreover, was not mania the effect 
of long brooding over wrongs, actual or imaginary ] Or, to 
put the thought in another form, how natural that the soli' 


368 • 


THE FAIR GOD. 


tary watcher of decay, where of all places decay is most af- 
fecting, midst antique and templed splendor, should make 
the cause of Quetzal’ his, until, at last, as the one idea of 
his being, it mastered him so absolutely that a division of 
his love was no longer possible. If the misgiving had come 
alone, the pain that wrung the ’tzin would have resolved 
itself in pity for the victim, so old, so faithful, so passionate ; 
but a dreadful consequence at once presented itself. By a 
strange fatality, the mystic had been taken into the royal 
councils, where, from force of faith, he had gained faith. 
Now, — and this was the dread, — what if he had cast the 
glamour of his mind over the king’s, and superinduced a 
policy which had for object and end the peaceable transfer 
of the nation to the strangers ? 

This thought thrilled the ’tzin indefinably, and in a mo- 
ment his pity changed to deep distrust. To master himself, 
he walked away ; coming back, he said quietly, “ The day 
you pray for has come ; rejoice, if you can.” 

“ I do not understand you,” said Mualox. 

“ I will explain. This is the day of the. incensing of Huit- 
zil’, which, you know, has been celebrated for ages as a festi- 
val religious and national. This morning, as customary, 
lords and priests, personages the noblest and most venerated, 
assembled in the court-yard of the temples. To bring the 
great wrong out in clearer view, I ought to say, father, that 
permission to celebrate had been asked of Tonatiah, and given, 
— to such a depth have we fallen ! And, as if to plunge 
us into a yet lower deep, he forbade the king’s attendance, 
and said to the teotuctli, ‘ There shall be no sacrifice.’ ” 

No victims, no blood ! ” cried Mualox, clasping his hands. 
“ Blessed be Quetzal’ ! ” 

The ’tzin bore the interruption, though with an effort. 

In the midst of the service,” he continued, “ when the 
yard was most crowded, and the revelry gayest, and the good 


THE ’TZIN’S FAREWELL TO QUETZAL*. 


369 


company most happy and unsuspecting, dancing, singing, 
feasting, suddenly Tonatiah and his people rushed upon 
them, and began to kill, and stayed not their hands until, of 
all the revellers, not one was left alive ; leaders in battle, 
ministers at the altar, old and young, — all were slain ! ^ 
0 such a piteous sight ! The court is a pool of blood. 
Who will restore the flower this day torn from the nation 1 

0 holy gods, what have we done to merit such calamity 1 ” 

Mualox listened, his hands still clasped. 

“ Not one left alive ! Not one, did you say 1 ” 

“ Not one.” 

The paha arose from his stooping, and upon the *tzin 
flashed the old magnetic flame. 

“ What have you done, ask you 1 Sinned against the 
true and only god — ” 

“ I ] ” said the ’tzin, for the moment shrinking. 

The nation, — the nation, blind to its crimes, no less 
blind to the beginning of its punishment ! What you call 
calamity, I call vengeance. Starting in the house of Huitzil’, 
— -the god for whom my god was forsaken, — it will next 
go to the city ; and if the lords so perish, how may the 
people escape '( Let them tremble ! He is come, he is come ! 

1 knew him afar, I know him here. I heard his step in the 
valley, I see his hand in the court. Eejoice, 0 ’tzin ! He 
has drunk the blood of the sacrificers. To-morrow his house 
must be made ready to receive him. Go not away ! Stay, 
and help me ! I am old. Of the treasure below I might 
make use to buy help ; but such preparation, like an offer- 
ing at the altar, is most acceptable when induced by love. 
Love for love. So said Quetzal’ in the beginning; so he 
says now.” 

* Sahagun, Hist, de Nueva Esp. Gomara, Cronica. Prescott, Conq. 
of Mexico. 


370 


THE FAIK GOD. 


“ Let me be sure I understand you, father. What do you 
•offer me ^ ” asked the ’tzin, quietly. 

“ Escape from the wrath,” replied Mualox. 

“ And what is required of me 1 ” 

“ To stay here, and, with me, serve his altar.” 

“ Is the king also to be saved ? ” 

Surely ; he is already a servant of the god’s.” 

Under his gown the ’tzin’s heart beat quicker, for the ques- 
tion and answer were close upon the fear newly come to him, 
as I have said; yet, to leave the point unguarded in the 
paba’s mind, he asked, — 

“ And the people : if I become what you ask, will they 
be saved 1 ” 

“No. They have forgotten Quetzal’ utterly.” 

“ When the king became your fellow-servant, father, made 
he no terms for his dependants, for the nation, for his 
family ? ” 

“ None.” 

Guatamozin dropped the hood upon his shoulders, and 
looked at Mualox sternly and steadily ; and between them 
ensued one of those struggles of spirit against spirit in which 
glances are as glittering swords, and the will holds the place 
of skill. 

“ Father,” he said, at length, “ I have been accustomed to 
love and obey you. I thought you good and wise, and con- 
versant with things divine, and that one so faithful to his 
god must be as faithful to his country ; for to me, love of 
one is love of the other. But now I know you better. You 
tell me that Quetzal’ has come, and for vengeance ; and that, 
in the fire of his wrath, the nation will be destroyed ; yet 
you exult, and endeavor to speed the day by prayer. And 
now, too, I understand the destiny you had in store for me. 
By hiding in this gown, and becoming a priest at your altar, 
I was to escape the universal death. What the king did, I 


THE ’TZIN’S farewell TO QUETZAL’. 


371 


was to do. Hear me now : I cut myself loose from you. 
With my own eyes I look into the future. I spurn the des- 
tiny, and for myself will carve out a better one by saving or 
perishing with my race. No more waiting on others ! no 
more weakness ! I will go hence and strike — ” 

“ Whom 1 ” asked Mualox, impulsively. “ The king and 
the god 1 ” 

He is not my god,” said the ’tzin, interrupting him in 
turn. “ The enemy of my race is my enemy, whether he be 
king or god. As for Montezuma,” — at the name his voice 
and manner changed, — I will go humbly, and, from the 
dust into which he flung them, pick up his royal duties. 
Alas ! no other can. Cuitlahua is a prisoner ; so is Cacama ; 
and in the court-yard yonder, cold in death, lie the lords who 
might with them contest the crown and its tribulations. I 
alone am left. And as to Quetzal’, — I accept the doom of 
my country, — into the heart of his divinity I cast my spear ! 
So, farewell, father. As a faithful servant, you cannot bless 
whom your god has cursed. With you, however, be all the 
peace and safety that abide here. Farewell.” 

“ Go not, go not ! ” cried Mualox, as the ’tzin, calling to 
Hualpa, turned his back upon him. ‘‘We have been as 
father and son. I am old. See how sorrow shakes these 
hands, stretched toward you in love.” 

Seeing the appeal was vain, the paba stepped forward and 
caught the ’tzin’s arm, and said, “ I pray you stay, — stay. 
The destiny follows Quetzal’, and is close at hand, and brings 
in its arms the throne.” 

Neither the tempter nor the temptation moved the ’tzin ; 
he called Hualpa again ; then the holy man let go his arm, 
and said, sadly, “ Go thy way, — one scoffer more ! Or, if 
you stay, hear of what the god will accuse you, so that, 
when your calamity comes, as come it will, you may not 
accuse him.” 


372 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ I will hear.” 

“ Know, then, 0 ’tzin, that Quetzal’, the day he landed 
from Tlapallan, took you in his care ; a little later, he caused 
you to be sent into exile — ” 

“ Your god did that ! ” exclaimed the ’tzin. “ And why 'I ” 

“ Out of the city there was safety,” replied Mualox, 
sententiously ; in a moment, he continued, “ Such, I say, 
was the beginning. Attend to what has followed. After 
Montezuma went to dwell with the strangers, the king 
of Tezcuco revolted, and drew after him the lords of 
Iztapalapan, Tlacopan, and others ; to-day they are prisoners, 
while you are free. Kext, aided by Tlalac, you planned the 
rescue of the king by force in the teocallis ; for that offence 
the officers hunted you, and have not given over their quest ; 
but the cells of Quetzal’ are deep and dark ; I called you in, 
and yet you are safe. To-day Quetzal’ appeared amongst the 
celebrants, and to-night there is mourning throughout the 
valley, and the city groans under the bloody sorrow ; still 
you are safe. A few days ago, in the old palace of Axaya’, 
the king assembled his lords, and there he and they became 
the avowed subjects of a new king, Malinche’s master ; since 
that the people, in their ignorance, have rung the heavens 
with their curses. You alone escaped that bond ; so that, if 
Montezuma were to join his fathers, asleep in Chapultepec, 
whom would soldier, priest, an(l citizen call to the throne 1 
Of the nobles living, how many are free to be king 1 And 
of all the empire, how many are there of whom I might 
say, ‘ He forgot not Quetzal’ ’ 1 One only. And now, O 
son, ask you of what you will be accused, if you abandon this 
house and its god ? or what will be forfeit, if now you turn 
your back upon them ? Is there a measure for the iniquity 
of ingratitude 1 If you go hence for any purpose of war, 
remember Quetzal’ neither forgets nor forgives ; better that 
you had never been born.” 


THE ’tZIN’S farewell TO QUETZAL’. 


373 


By this time, Hualpa had joined the party. Resting his 
hand upon the young man’s shoulder, the ’tzin fixed on 
Mualox a look severe and steady as his own, and replied, — 
“ Father, a man knows not himself; still less knows he other 
men ; if so, how should I know a being so great as you 
claim your god to be ? Heretofore, I have been contented 
to see Quetzal’ as you have painted him, — a fair-faced, 
gentle, loving deity, to whom human sacrifice was espe- 
cially abhorrent ; but what shall I say of him whom you 
have now given me to study ? If he neither forgets nor 
forgives, wherein is he better than the gods of Mictlan ? 
Hating, as you have said, the sacrifice of one man, he 
now proposes, you say, not as a process of ages, but at 
once, by a blow or a breath, to slay a nation number- 
ing millions. When was Huitzil’ so awfully worshipped? 
He will spare the king, you further say, because he has 
become his servant; and I can find grace by a like sub- 
mission. Father,” — and as he spoke the ’tzin’s manner be- 
came inexpressibly noble, — “father, who of choice would 
live to be the last of his race ? The destiny brings me a 
crown : tell me, when your god has glutted himself, where 
shall I find subjects ? Comes he in person or by representa- 
tive? Am I to be his crowned slave or Malinche’s ? Once 
for all, let Quetzal’ enlarge his doom; it is sweeter than 
what you call his love. 1 will go fight ; and, if the gods of 
my fathers — in this hour become dearer and holier than 
ever — so decree, will die with my people. Again, father, 
farewell.” 

Again the withered hands arose tremulously, and a look 
of exceeding anguish came to the paba’s help. 

“ If not for love of me, or of self, or of Quetzal’, then 
for love of woman, stay.” 

Guatamozin turned quickly. “ What of her ? ” 

“O ’tzin, the destiny you put aside is hers no less than 
yours.” - 


374 


THE FAIK GOD. 


The ’tzin raised higher his princely head, and answered, 


smiling joyously, — 


“ Then, father, by whatever charm, or incantation, or 
virtue of prayer you possess, hasten the destiny, — hasten 
it, I conjure you. A tomb would be a palace with her, a 
palace would be a tomb without her.” 

And with the smile still upon his face, and the resolution 
yet in his heart, he again, and for the last time, turned his 
back upon Mualox. 


>>«OC 


CHAPTEE V. 


THE CELLS OF QUETZAL AGAIN. 



“ Catch him ! ” 

“ Stone him ! ” 

“ Kill him ! ” 

So cried a mob, at the time in furious motion up the 
beautiful street. Numbering hundreds already, it increased 
momentarily, and howled as oidy such a monster can. 
Scarce eighty yards in front ran its game, — Orteguilla, the 
page. 

The boy was in desperate strait. His bonnet, secured by 
a braid, danced behind him ; his short cloak, of purple vel- 
vet, a little faded, fluttered as if struggling to burst the 
throat-loop ; his hands were clenched ; his face pale with 
fear and labor. He ran with all his might, often looking 
back ; and as his course was up the street, the old palace of 
/Ixaya’ must have been the goal he sought, — a long, long 
way off for one unused to such exertion and so fiercely 
pressed. At every backward glance, he cried, in agony of 


THE CELLS OF QUETZAL’ AGAIN. 


375 


terror, “ Help me, 0 Mother of Christ ! By God’s love, 
help me ! ” The enemy was gaining upon him. 

The lad, as I think I have before remarked, had been de- 
tailed by Cortes to attend Montezuma, with whom, as he 
was handsome and witty, and had soon acquired the Aztecan 
tongue and uncommon skill at totoloque, he had become an 
accepted favorite ; so that, while useful to the monarch as a 
servant, he was no less useful to the Christian as a detective. 
In the course of his service, he had been frequently in- 
trusted with his royal master’s signet, the very highest mark 
of confidence. Every day he executed errands in the tian- 
guez^ and sometimes in even remoter quarters of the city. 
Asa consequence he had come to be quite well known, and 
to this day nothing harmful or menacing had befallen him, 
although, as was not hard to discern, the people would 
have been better satisfied had Maxtla been charged Avith 
such duties. 

On this occasion, — the day after the interview between 
the ’tzin and Mualox, — while executing some trifling com- 
mission in the market, he became conscious of a change in 
the demeanor of those whom he met; of courtesies, there 
were none ; he was not once saluted ; even the jewellers with 
whom he dealt viewed him coldly, and asked not a word 
about the king ; yet, unaware of danger, he went to the 
portico of the Chalcan, and sat awhile, enjoying the shade 
and the fountain, and listening to the noisy commerce 
without. 

Presently, he heard a din of conchs and attabals, the 
martial music of the Aztecs. Somewhat startled, and 
half hidden by the curtains, he looked out, and be- 
held, coming from the direction of the king’s palace, a 
procession bearing ensigns and banners of all shapes, de- 
signs, and colors. 

At the first sound of the music, the people, of whom, as 


THE FAIR GOD. 


37fi 

usual, there were great numbers in the tianguez, quitted their 
occupations, and ran to meet the spectacle, which, without 
halting, came swiftly down to the Chalcan’s ; so that 
there passed within a few feet of the adventurous page 
a procession rarely beautiful, — a procession of Avarriors march- 
ing in deep files, each one helmeted, and with a shield at his 
back, and a banner in his hand, — an army with banners. 

At the head, apart from the others, strode a chief whom 
all eyes followed. Even Orteguilla was impressed with his 
appearance. He wore a tunic of very brilliant feather-work, 
the skirt of which fell almost to his knees ; from the skirt 
to the ankles his lower limbs were bare ; around the ankles, 
over the thongs of the sandals, were rings of furbished silver ; 
on his left arm he carried a shield of shining metal, probably 
brass, its rim fringed with locks of flowing hair, and in the 
centre the device of an owl, snow-wliite, and wrought of the 
plumage of the bird ; over his temples, fixed firmly in the 
golden head-band, there were Avings of a parrot, green as 
emerald, and half spread. He exceeded his followers in 
stature, which appeared the greater by reason of the long 
Chinantlan spear in his right hand, used as a staff. To the 
whole Avas added an air severely grand ; for, as he marched, he 
looked neither to the right nor left, — apparently too absorbed 
to notice the people, many of whom even knelt upon his 
approach. From the cries that saluted the chief, together 
with the descriptions he had often heard of him, Orteguilla 
recognized Guatamozin. 

The procession wellnigh passed, and the young Span- 
iard was studying the devices on the ensigns, Avhen a hand 
was laid upon his shoulder ; turning quickly to the intruder, 
he saw the prince lo’, Avhom he Avas in the habit of meet- 
ing daily in the audience-chamber of the king. The prince 
met his smile and pleasantry with a sombre face, and said, 
coldly, — 


THE CELLS OF QUETZAL’ AGAIN. 


377 


“You have been kind to the king, my father ; he loves 
you ; on your hand I see his signet ; therefore I will serve 
you. Arise, and begone; stay not a moment. You were 
never nearer death than now.” 

Orteguilla, scarce comprehending, would have questioned 
him, but the prince spoke on. 

“ The chiefs who inhabit here are in the procession. Had 
they found you, Huitzil’ would have had a victim before sun- 
set. Stay not ; begone ! ” 

While speaking, lo’ moved to the curtained doorway from 
which he had just come. “ Beware of the people in the 
square ; trust not to the signet. My father is still the king ; 
but the lords and pabas have given his power to another, — 
him whom you saw pass just now before the banners. In 
all Anahuac Guatamozin’s w^ord is the law, and that word 
is — War.” And with that he passed into the house. 

The page w'as a soldier, not so much in strength as experi- 
ence, and brave from habit ; now, however, his heart stood 
still, and a deadly coldness came over him ; his life was in 
peril. What was to be done 1 

The procession passed by, with the multitude in a fever of 
enthusiasm ; then the lad ventured to leave the portico, and 
start for his quarters, to gain which he had first to traverse the 
side of the square he was on ; that done, he would be in the 
beautiful street, going directly to the desired place. He strove 
to carry his ordinary air of confidence ; but the quick step, 
pale face, and furtive glance would have been tell-tales to the 
shopkeepers and slaves whom he passed, if they had been the 
least observant. As it was, he had almost reached the street, 
and was felicitating himself, when he heard a yell behind 
him. He looked back, and beheld a party of warriors 
coming at full speed. Their cries and gestures left no room 
to doubt that he was their object. He started at once for life. 

The noise drew everybody to the doors, and forthwith 


378 


THE FAIR GOD. 


everybody joined the chase. After passing several bridges, 
the leading pursuers were about seventy yards behind him, 
followed by a stream of supporters extending to the tianguez 
and beyond. So we have the scene with which the chapter 
opens. 

The page’s situation was indeed desperate. He had not 
yet reached the king’s palace, on the other side of which, as 
he knew, lay a stretch of street frightful to think of in such 
a strait. The mob was coming rapidly. To add to his 
horror, in front appeared a body of men armed and marching 
toward him ; at the sight, they halted ; then they formed a 
line of interception. His steps flagged ; fainter, but more 
agonizing, arose his prayer to Christ and the Mother. Into 
the recesses on either hand, and into the doors and windows, 
and up to the roofs, and down into the canals, he cast des^ 
pairing glances ; but chance there was not ; capture was cer- 
tain, and then the — sacrifice ! 

That moment he reached a temple of the ancient construc- 
tion, — properly speaking, a Cu, — low, broad, massive, in 
architecture not unlike the Egyptian, and with steps along 
the whole front. He took no thought of its appearance, 
nor of what it might contain ; he saw no place of refuge 
within ; his terror had become a blind, unreasoning madness. 
To escape the sacrifice was his sole impulse ; and I am not 
sure but that he would have regarded death in any form other 
than at the hands of the pabas as an escape. So he turned, 
and darted up the steps ; before his foremost pursuer was at 
the bottom, he was at the top. 

With a glance he swept the azoteas. Through the wide, 
doorless entrance of a turret, he saw an altar of stainless 
white marble, decorated profusely with flowers; imagining 
there might be pabas present, and possibly devotees, he ran 
around the holy place, and came to a flight of steps, down 
which he passed to a court-yard hounded on every side by a 


LOST IN THE OLD Ct>. 


379 


colonnade. A narrow doorway at his right hand, full ol 
darkness, offered him a hiding-place. 

In calmer mood, I doubt if the young Spaniard could have 
been induced alone to try the interior of the Cfi. He would 
at least have studied the building with reference to the car- 
dinal points of direction ; now, however, driven by the ter- 
rible fear, without thought or question, without precaution 
of any kind, taking no more note of distance than course, 
into the doorway, into the unknown, headlong he plunged. 
The darkness swallowed him instantly ; yet he did not abate 
his speed, for behind him he heard — at least he fancied so 
— the swift feet of pursuers. Either the dear Mother of his 
prayers, or some ministering angel, had Jiim in keeping dur- 
ing the blind flight ; but at last he struck obliquely against 
a wall ; in the effort to recover himself, he reeled against 
another ; tben he measured his length upon the floor, and 
remained exhausted and fainting. 


CHAPTEE VI. 


LOST IN THE OLD cfl. 


HE page at last awoke from his stupor. With difficulty 



he recalled his wandering senses. He sat up, and was 
confronted everywhere by a darkness like that in sealed 
tombs. Could he be blind*? He rubbed his eyes, and 
strained their vision ; he saw nothing. Baffled in the ap- 
peal to that sense, he resorted to another; he felt of his 
head, arms, limbs, and was reassured : he not only lived, 
but, save a few bruises, was sound of body. Then he ex- 
tended the examination ; he felt of the floor, and, stretching 
his arms right and left, discovered a waU, which, like the 


380 


THE FAIR GOD, 


floor, was of masonry. The cold stone, responding to the 
tonch, sent its chill along his sluggish veins ; the close air 
made breathing hard ; the silence, absolutely lifeless, — and 
in that respect so unlike what we call silence in the outer 
world, which, after all, is but the time chosen by small 
things, the entities of the dust and grass and winds, for 
their hymnal service, heard full-toned in heaven, if not by 
us, — the dead, stagnant, unresonant silence, such as haunts 
the depths of old mines and lingers in the sunken crypts of 
abandoned castles, awed and overwhelmed his soul. 

Where was he ? How came he there 1 With head droop- 
ing, and hands and arms resting limp upon the floor, weak 
in body and spirit, he sat a long time motionless, struggling 
to recall the past, which came slowly, enabling him to see 
the race again with all its incidents : the enemy in rear, the 
enemy in front ; the temple stairs, vdth their offer of escape ; 
the azoteas, the court, the dash into the doorway under the 
colonnade, — all came back slowly, I say, bringing a dread 
that he was lost, and that, in a frantic effort to avoid death 
in one form, he had run open-eyed to embrace it in another 
even more horrible. 

The dread gave him strength. He arose to his feet, and 
stood awhile, straining his memory to recall the direction of 
the door which had admitted him to the passage. Could he 
find that door, he would wait a fitting time to slip from the 
temple ; for which he would trust the Mother and watch. 
But now, what was done must needs be done quickly ; • for, 
though but an ill-timed fancy, he thought he felt a sen- 
sation of hunger, indicating that he had been a long time 
lying there ; how long, of course, he knew not. 

Memory served him illy, or rather not at all ; so that 
nothing would do now but to feel his way out. 0 for a 
light, if only a spark from a gunner’s match, or the moony 
gleam of a Cuban glow-worm ! 


LOST IN THE OLD CC. 


381 


As every faculty was now alert, he was conscious of the 
importance of the start ; if that were in the wrong direction, 
every inch would he from the door, and, possibly, toward 
his grave. First, then, was he in a hall or a chamber 1 He 
hoped the former, for then there would be but two directions 
from which to choose ; and if he took the wrong one, no 
matter ; he had only to keep on until the fact was made clear 
by the trial, and then retrace his steps. “ Thanks, 0 Holy 
Mother ! In the darkness thou art with thy children no less 
than in the day ! ” And with the pious words, he crossed 
himself, forehead and breast, and set about the work. 

To find if he were in a passage, — that was the first point. 
He laid his hand upon the wall again, and started in the 
course most likely, as he believed, to take him to the day- 
light, never before so beautiful to his mind. 

The first step suggested a danger. There might be traps 
in the floor. He had heard the question often at the camp- 
fire, What is done with the bodies of the victims offered up 
in the heathen worship I Some said they were eaten ; others, 
that there were vast receptacles for them in the ungodly 
temples, — miles and miles of catacombs, filled with myriads 
of bones of priests and victims. If he shoidd step off into a 
pit devoted to such a use ! His hair bristled at the thought. 
Carefully, slowly, therefore, his hands pressed against the 
rough wall, his steps short, one foot advanced to feel the 
way for the other, so he went, and such was the necessity. 

Scarcely three steps on he found another dilemma. The 
wall suddenly fell away under his hand ; he had come to 
the angle of a corner. He stopped to consider. Should he 
follow the wall in its new course % It occurred to him that 
the angle was made by a crossing of passages, that he was 
then in the square of their intersection ; so the chances of 
finding the right outlet were three to one against him. He 
was more than ever confused. Hope went into low ebb. 


382 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Would he ever get out] Had he been missed in the old 
palace ] If hostilities had broken out, as intimated ,by the 
prince lo’, would his friends he permitted to look for him in 
the city ? The king was his friend, hut, alas ! his power had 
been given to another. No, there was no help for him ; he 
must stay there as in his tomb, and die of hunger and thirst, 
— die slowly, hour by hour, minute by minute. Already 
the fever of famine was in his blood, — next to the fact is 
the fancy. If his organism had begun to consume itself, 
how long could he last ? Never were moments so precious 
to him. Each one carried off a fraction of the strength 
upon which his escape depended ; each one must, therefore, 
be employed. No more loitering ; action, action ! In the 
darkness he looked to heaven, and prayed tearfully to the 
Mother. 

The better to understand his situation, and what he did, 
it may be well enough to say here, that the steps by which 
he descended into the court-yard faced the west ; and as, 
from the court, he took shelter in a door to his right, the 
passage must have run due north. When, upon recovery 
from the fainting-spell, he started to regain the door, he was 
still in the passage,* but unhappily followed its continuation 
northward ; every step, in that course, consequently, was 
so much into instead of out of the labyrinth. And now, 
to make the situation Avorse, he Aveakiy clung to the Avail, 
and at the corner turned to the right ; after Avhich his pain- 
ful, toilsome progress was to the east, Avhere the chances 
Avere sure to be complicated. 

If the reader has ever tried to pass through a strange 
hall totally darkened, he can imagine the young Spaniard 
in motion. Each respiration, each movement, was doubly 
loud ; the slide and shuffle of the feet, changing position, 
filled the rock-bound space Avith echoes, which, by a cooler 
head than his, might have been made teU the Avidth and 


LOST IN THE OLD cO. 


383 


height of the passage, and something of its depth. There 
were times when the sounds seemed startlingly like the 
noise of another person close by ; then he would stop, lay 
hand on his dagger, the only weapon he had, and listen ner- 
vously, undetermined what to do. 

In the course of the tedious movement, he came to narrow 
apertures at intervals in the wall, which he surmised to be 
doors of apartments. Before some of them he paused, think- 
ing they might be occupied j but nothing came from them, 
or was heard within, but the hollow reverberations usual 
to empty chambers. The crackle of cement underfoot and 
the crevices in the wall filled with dust assured him that 
a long time had passed since a saving hand had been there ; 
yet the evidences that the old pile had once been popu- 
lous made its present desertion all the more impressive. 
Afterwhile he began to wish for the appearance of some- 
body, though an enemy. Yet farther on, when the awful 
silence and darkness fully kindled his imagination, and gave 
him for companionship the spirits of the pagans who had 
once — how far back, who could say 1 — made the cells 
animate with their prayers and orgies, the yearning for the 
company of anything living and susceptible of association 
became almost insupportable. 

Several times, as he advanced, he came to cross passages. 
Of the distance made, he could form no idea. Once he 
descended a flight of steps, and at the bottom judged him- 
self a story below the level of the court and street ; reflect- 
ing, however, that he could not have clomb them on the 
way in without some knowledge of them, he again paused 
for consideration. The end of the passage was not reached : 
he could not say the door he sought was not there ; he simply 
believed not ; still he resolved to go back to the starting-point 
and begin anew. 

He set out bravely, and p'oceeded with less caution than 


384 


THE FAIR GOD. 


in coming. Suddenly he stopped. He had neglected to 
count the doors and intersecting passages along the way ; 
consequently he could not identify the starting-point when 
he reached it. Merciful God I he was noiv indeed lost ! 

For a time he struggled against the conviction ; but when 
the condition was actually realized, a paroxysm seized him. 
He raised his hands wildly, and shouted, Ola ! Ola ! The 
cry smote the walls near by until they rang again, and, flying 
down the passage, died lingeringly in the many chambers, 
leaving him so shaken by the discordance that he cowered 
nearly to the floor, as if, instead of ‘human help, he had con- 
jured a demon, and looked for its instant appearance. Sum- 
moning all his resolution, he again shouted the challenge, 
but with the same result ; no reply except the mocking 
echoes, no help. He was in a tomb, buried alive ! And at 
that moment, resulting doubtless from the fever of mind 
and body, he was conscious of the first decided sensation 
of thirst, accompanied by the thought of running water, 
cool, sweet, and limpid ; as if to add to his torture, he 
saw then, not only that he was immured alive, but how 
and of what he was to die. Then also he saw why his 
enemies gave up the pursuit at the passage-door. Lost in 
the depths of the Cfl, out of reach of help, groping here 
and there through the darkness, in hours condensing years 
of suffering, dead, finally, of hunger and thirst, — was he 
not as much a victim as if formally butchered by the teo- 
tuctli? And if, in the eyes of the heathen god, suffering 
made the sacrifice appreciable, when was there one more 
perfect % 

“ Ho, no,” he cried, “I am a Christian, in care of 
the Christian’s God. I am too young, too strong. I can 
walk ; if need be, run ; and there are hours and days be- 
fore me. I will find the door. Courage, courage ! And 
thou, dear, blessed Mother ! if ever thou dost permit a 


HOW THE HOLY MOTHER HELPS HER CHILDREN. 385 


shrine in the chapel of this heathen house, all that which 
the Senor Hernan may apportion to me thou shalt have. 
Hear my vow, 0 sweet Mother, and help me ! ” 

How many heroisms, attributed to duty, or courage, or 
some high passion, are in fact due to the utter hopelessness, 
the blindness past seeing, the fainting of the soul called 
despair ! In that last motive what mighty energy ! How it 
now nerved Orteguilla ! Down the passage he went, and with 
alacrity. Hot that he had a plan, or with the mind’s eye 
even saw the way, — not at all. He went because in mo- 
tion there was soothing to his very despair; in motion he 
could make himseK believe there was still a hope ; in mo- 
tion he could expect each moment to hail the welcome door 
and the glory of the light. 


CHAPTER YII. 

HOW THE HOLY MOTHER HELPS HER CHILDRm 

I DOUBT not my reader is gentle, good, and tender-heart- 
ed, easily moved by tales of sufiering, and nothing 
delighting in them ; and that, with such benignant qualities 
of heart and such commendable virtues of taste, he will ex- 
cuse me if I turn from following the young Spaniard, who 
has now come to be temporarily a hero of my story, and 
leave to the imagination the details of the long round of 
misery he endured in his wanderings through the interior of 
the old CH. 

Pathologists will admit they are never at fault or loss 
in the diagnosis of cases of hunger and thirst. Whether 
considered as disease or accident, their marks are unmis- 
takable, and their symptoms before dissolution, like their 
17 Y 


386 


THE FAIR GOD. 


effects afterwards, invariable. Both may be simply de- 
scribed as consumption of the body by its own organs ; pre- 
cisely as if, to preserve life, one devoured his own flesh and 
drank his own blood. I*lot without reason, therefore, the 
suicide, what time he thinks of his crime, always, when 
possible, chooses some mode easier and more expeditious. 
The gradations to the end are, an intense desire for food 
and drink ; a fever, accompanied by exquisite pain ; 
then delirium; finally, death. It is in the second and 
third stages that the peculiarities show most strangely ; 
then the mind cheats the body with visions of Ta ntalus . 
If the sufferer be thirst-stricken, he is permitted to see 
fountains and sparkling streams, and water in draughts and 
rivers ; if he be starving, the same mocking fancy spreads 
Apician feasts before his eyes, and stimulates the intolerable 
misery by the sight and scent of all things delicious and 
appetizing. I have had personal experience of the anguish 
and delusions of which I speak. I know what they are. I 
pray the dear Mother, who has us all in holy care, to keep 
them far from my gentle friends. 

* * * * * 

A day and night in the temple, — another day and night, 
— morning of the third day, and we discover the page sit- 
ting upon the last of a flight of steps. No water, no food 
in all that time. He slept once ; how long, he did not know. 
A stone floor does not conduce to rest even where there is 
sleep. All that time, too, the wearisome search for the door ; 
groping along the wall, feeling the way eU by ell ; always 
at fault and lost utterly. His condition can be understood 
almost without the aid of description. He sits on the step 
in a kind of stupor ; his cries for help have become a dull, 
unmeaning moan ; before him pass the fantasies of food and 
water ; and could the light — the precious, beautiful light, stj 
Lang sought, so earnestly prayed and struggled for — faU upon 


HOW THE HOLY MOTHER HELPS HER CHILDREN. 387 


him, we should have a sad picture of the gay youth who, 
in the market, sported his velvet cloak and feathered bonnet, 
and half disdainfully flashed the royal signet in the faces of 
the wondering merchants, — the picture of a despairing 
creature whom much misery was rapidly bringing down to 
death. 

And of his thoughts, or, rather, the vagaries that had taken 
the place of thoughts, — ah, how well they can be divined ! 
Awhile given to the far-off native land, and the loved ones 
there, — land and loved ones never again to be seen ; then 
to the ^ew World, full of all things strange ; but mostly to 
his situation, lost so hopelessly, suffering so dreadfully. 
There were yet ideas of escape, reawakenings of the energy 
of despair, but less frequent every hour ; indeed, he was be- 
coming submissive to the fate. He prayed, also ; but his 
prayers had more relation to the life to come than to this 
one. To die without Christian rite, to leave his bones in 
such unhallowed place ! 0, for one shrieving word from 

Father Bartolome ! 

In the midst of his wretchedness, and of the sighs and 
sobs and tears which were its actual expression, suddenly 
the ceiling overhead and all the rugged sides of the passage 
above the line of the upper step of the stairway at the foot 
of which he was sitting were illumined by a faint red glow 
of light. He started to his feet. Could it be ? Was it not 
a delusion! Were not his eyes deceiving him? In the 
darkness he had seen banquets, and the chambers thereof, 
and had heard the gurgle of pouring wine and water. Was 
not this a similar trick of the imagination? or had the 
Blessed Mother at last heard his supplications ? 

He looked steadily ; the glow deepened. 0 wondrous 
charm of life ! To be, after dying so nearly, brought back 
with such strength, so quickly, and by such a trifle ! 

While he looked, his doubts gave way to certainty. Light 


388 


THE FAIR GOD. 


there was, — essential, revealing, beautiful light. He clasped 
his hands, and the tears of despair became tears of joy ; all 
the hopes of his being, which, in the dreary hours just 
passed, had gone out as ‘stars go behind a spreading cloud, 
rose up whirring, like a flock of startled birds, and, filling 
all his heart, once more endued him with strength of mind 
and body. He passed his hands across his eyes : still the 
light remained. Surer than a fantasy, good as a miracle, 
there it was, growing brighter, and approaching, and that, 
too, by the very passage in which he was standing ; whether 
borne by man or spirit, friend or foe, it would speedily reach 
the head of the steps, and then — 

Out of the very certainty of aid at hand, a reaction of 
feeling came. A singular caution seized him. What if 
those bearing the light were enemies'? Through the glow 
dimly lighting the part of the passage below the stairway, 
he looked eagerly for a place of concealment. Actually, 
though starving, the prospect of relief filled him with all 
the instincts of life renewed. A door caught his eye. He 
ran to the cell, and hid, but in position to see whomsoever 
might pass. He had no purpose : he would wait and see, 
— that was all. 

The light approached slowly, — in his suspense, how 
slowly ! Gradually the glow in the passage became a fair 
illumination. There were no sounds of feet, no forerun- 
ning echoes ; the coming was noiseless as that of spirits. 
Out of the door, nevertheless, he thrust his head, in time to 
see the figure of a man on the upper step, bareheaded, bare- 
footed, half wrapped in a cotton cloak, and carrying a broad 
wooden tray or waiter, covered with what seemed table-ware ; 
the whole brought boldly into view by the glare of a lamp 
fastened, like a miner’s, to his forehead. 

The man was alone ; with that observation, Orteguilla 
drew back, and waited, his hand upon his dagger. Ho 


HOW THE HOLY MOTHER HELPS HER CHILDREN. 389 


trembled with excitement. Here was an instrument of 
escape; what should he do^ If he exposed himself sud- 
denly, might not the stranger drop his burden, and run, and 
in the race extinguish the lamp^ If he attacked, might 
he not have to kill! Yet the chance must not be lost. 
Life depended upon it, and it was, therefore, precious as life. 

The man descended the steps carefully, and drew near the 
cell door. Orteguilla held his breath. The stepping of 
bare feet became distinct. A gleam of light, almost blind- 
ing, flashed through the doorway, and, narrow at first but 
rapidly widening, began to wheel across the floor. At length 
the cell filled with brightness ; the stranger was passing the 
door, not a yard away. 

The young Spaniard beheld an old man, half naked, and 
bearing a tray. That he was a servant was clear ; that 
there was no danger to be apprehended from him was equal- 
ly clear : he was too old. These were the observations 
of a glance. From the unshorn, unshaven head and face, 
the eyes of the lad dropped to 'the tray ; at the same instant, 
the smell of meat, fresh from the coals, saluted him, mixed 
with the aroma of chocolate, still smoking, and sweeter to 
the starving fugitive than incense to a devotee. Another 
note : the servant was carrying a meal to somebody, his 
master or mistress. Still another note : the temple was in- 
habited, and the inhabitants .were near by. The impulse to 
rush out and snatch the tray, and eat and drink, was almost 
irresistible. The urgency there is in a parched throat, and 
in a stomach three days empty, cannot be imagined. Yet 
he restrained himself. 

The lamp, the food, the human being — the three things 
most desirable — had come, and were going, and the page 
still undetermined what to do. Instinct and hunger and 
thirst, and a dread of the darkness, and of the death so lately 
imminent, moved him to follow, and he obeyed. He had 


390 


THE FAIR GOD. 


cunning enough left to take off his boots. That done, he 
stepped into the passage, and, moving a few paces behind, 
put himself in the guidance of the servant, sustained by a 
hope that daylight and liberty were but a short way off. 

For a hundred steps or more the man went his way, when 
he came to a great flat rock or flag cumbering the passage ; 
there he stopped, and set down the tray ; and taking the 
lamp from the fastening on his head, he knelt by the side 
of a trap, or doorway, in the floor. Orteguilla stopped at 
the same time, drawing, as a precaution, close to the left 
wall. Immediately he heard the tinkling of a bell, which 
he took to be a signal to some one in a chamber below. 
His eyes fixed hungrily upon the savory viands. He saw 
the slave fasten a rope to the tray, and begin to lower it 
through the trap ; he heard the noise of the contact with 
the floor beneath : still he was unresolved. The man 
arose, lamp in hand, and without more ado, as if a familiar 
task were finished, started in return. And now the two 
must come within reach of each other ; now the page must 
discover himself or be discovered. Should he remain 1 
Was not retreat merely going back into the terrible laby- 
rinth 1 He debated ; and while he debated, chance came 
along and took control. The servant, relieved of his load, 
walked swiftly, trying, while in motion, to replace the lamp 
over his forehead ; failing in that, he stopped ; and as for-, 
tune ordered, stopped within two steps of the fugitive. A 
moment, — and the old man’s eyes, dull as they were, be- 
came transfixed ; then the lamp fell from his hand and 
rolled upon the floor, and with a scream, he darted forward 
in a flight which the object of his fear could not hope to 
outstrip. The lamp went out, and darkness dropped from 
the ceiling, and leaped from the waUs, reclaiming everything. 

Orteguilla stood overwhelmed by the misfortune. All the 
former horrors returned to plague him. He upbraided him- 


HOW THE HOLY MOTHER HELPS HER CHILDREN. 391 


self for irresolution. Why allow the man to escape ? Why 
not seize, or, at least, speak to him 1 The chance had been 
sent, he could now see, by the Holy Mother ; would she 
send another 1 If not, and he died there, who would be to 
blame but himself? He wrung his hands, and gave way to 
bitter tears. 

Eventually the unintermitting craving of hunger aroused 
him by a lively suggestion. The smell of the meat and 
chocolate haunted him. What had become of them ? Then 
he remembered the ringing of the bell, and their disappear- 
ance through the trap. There they were ; and more, — 
somebody was there enjoying them ! Why not have his 
share ? Ay, though he fought for it ! Should an infidel 
feed while a Christian starved ? The. thought lent him new 
strength. Such could not be God’s will. Then, as often 
happens, indignation begat a certain shrewdness to discern 
points, and put them together. The temple was not vacant, 
as he at first feared. Indeed, its tenants were thereabouts. 
Neither was he alone ; on the floor below, he had neighbors. 
“ Ave Maria ! ” he cried, and crossed himself. 

His neighbors, he thought, — advancing to another conclu- 
sion, — his neighbors, whoever they were, had communica- 
tion with the world ; otherwise, they would perish, as he 
was perishing. Moreover, the old servant was the medium 
of the communication, and would certainly come again. 
Courage, courage ! 

A sense of comfort, derived from the bare idea of neigh- 
borship with something human, for the time at least, lulled 
him into forgetfulness of misery. 

Upon his hands and knees, he went to the great stone, 
and to the edge of the trap. 

“ Salvado ! Soy salvado ! I am saved ! ” And with 
tears of joy he rapturously repeated the sweet salutation of 
the angels to the Virgin. The space below was lighted I 


392 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The light, as he discovered upon a second look, came 
through curtains stretched across a passage similar to the one 
he was in, and was faint, but enough to disclose two objects, 
the sight of which touched him with a fierce delight, — the 
tray on the floor, its contents untouched, and a rope ladder 
by which to descend. 

He lost no time now. Placing his dagger between his 
teeth, he swung off, though with some trouble, and landed 
safely. At his feet, then, lay a repast to satisfy the daintiest 
appetite, — fish, white bread, chocolate, in silver cups and 
beaten into honeyed foam, and fruits from vine and tree. 
He clasped his hands and looked to Heaven, and, as became 
a pious Spaniard, restrained the maladies that afflicted him, 
while he said the old Paternoster, — dear, hallowed utterance 
taught him in childhood by the mother who, but for this 
godsend, would have lost him forever. Then he stooped to 
help himself, and while his hand was upon the bread the 
curtain parted, and he saw, amidst a flood of light pouring 
in over her head and shoulders, a girl, very young and very 
beautiful. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE P aba’s angel. 

I F I were writing a tale less true, or were at all accom- 
phshed in the charming art of the story-teUer, which has 
come to be regarded as but little inferior to that of the poet, 
possibly I could have disguised the incidents of the preced- 
ing chapters so as to have checked anticipation. But many 
pages back the reader no doubt discovered that the Cii in 
which the page took shelter was that of Quetzal’ ; and now, 
while to believe I could, by any arrangement or conceit con- 


THE PABA’S ANGEL. 


393 


sistent with truth, agreeably surprise a friend, I must admit 
that he is a dull witling who failed, at the parting of the 
curtain as above given, to recognize the child of the paba, — 
Jecetl, to whom, beyond peradventure, the memory of all who 
follow me to this point has often returned, in tender 
sympathy for the victim of an insanity so strange or — as 
the critic must decide — a philosophy so cruel. 

Now, however, she glides again into the current of my 
story, one of those wingless waifs which we have all at one 
time or another seen, and which, if not from heaven, as 
their purity and beauty suggest, are, at least, ready to be 
wafted there. 

I stop to say that, during the months past, as before, 
her life had gone sweetly, pleasantly, without ruffle or 
labor or care or sickness, or division, even, into hours and 
days and nights, — a flowing onward, like time, — an exist- 
ence so serenely perfect as not to be a subject of conscious- 
ness. Her occupation was a round of gentle ministrations to 
the paba. Her experience was still limited to the chamber, 
its contents and expositions. If the philosophy of the vener- 
able mystic — that ignorance of humanity is happiness — was 
correct, then was she happy as mortal can be, for as yet she 
had not seen a human being other than himself. Her pleas- 
ure was still to chatter and chirrup with the friendly birds ; or 
to gather flowers and fashion them into wreaths and garlands 
to be offered at the altar of the god to whom she herself had 
been so relentlessly devoted ; or to lie at rest upon the couch, 
and listen to the tinkling voices of the fountain, or join in 
their melody. And as I do not know why, in speaking of 
her life, I should be silent as to that part which is lost in 
slumber, particularly when the allusion will help me illus- 
trate her matchless innocency of nature, I will say, fur- 
ther, that sleep came to her as to children, irregularly and 
in the midst of play, and waking was followed by no in- 
17 * 


394 


THE FAIR GOD. 


terval of heaviness, or brooding over a daily task, or bracing 
the soul for a duty. In fact, she was still a child ; though not 
to he thought dealing with anything seraphic, I will add, that 
in the months past she had in height become quite womanly, 
while the tone of her voice had gained an equality, and her 
figure a fulness, indicative of quick maturity. 

Nor had the “ World ” undergone any change. The uni- 
versal exposition on the walls and ceiling remained the 
same surpassing marvel of art. At stated periods, work- 
men had come, and, through the shaft constructed for the 
purpose, like those in deep mines, lifted to the azoteas such 
plants and shrubs as showed signs of suffering for the indis- 
pensable sun ; but as, on such occasions, others were let down, 
and rolled to the vacant places, there was never an abatement 
of the garden freshness that prevailed in the chamber. The 
noise of the work disturbed the birds, but never Tecetl, 
whose spirit during the time was under the mesmeric Will 
of the paba. 

There was a particular, however, in which the god who 
was supposed to have the house in keeping had not been so 
gracious. A few days before the page appeared at the door, 
— exactness requires ihe‘ to say the day of the paba’s last 
interview with Guatamozin, — Mualox came down from the 
sanctuary in an unusual state of mind and body. He was 
silent and exhausted ; his knees tottered, as, with never a 
smile or pleasant word, or kiss in reply to the salutation he 
received, he went to the couch to lie down. He seemed like 
one asleep ; yet he did not sleep, but lay with his eyes 
fixed vacantly on the ceiling, his hand idly stroking his 
beard. 

In vain Tecetl plied all her little arts ; she sang to him, 
caressed him, brought her vases and choicest flowers and 
sweetest singing-birds, and asked a thousand questions about 
the fair, good Quetzal’,- — a topic theretofore of never-failing 
interest to the holy man. 


THE PABA'S ANGEL. 


395 


She had never known sickness, — so kindly had the god 
dealt by her. Her acquaintance with infirmity of any 
kind was limited to the fatigue of play, and the weariness 
of tending flowers and birds. Her saddest experienoe had 
been to see the latter sicken and die. All her further 
knowledge of death was when it came and touched a plant, 
withering leaf and bud. To die was the end of such things ; 
but they — the paba and herself — were not as such : they 
were above death ; Quetzal’ was immortal, and, happy souls ! 
they were to serve him for ever and ever. Possessed of such 
faith, she was not alarmed by the good man’s condition ; on 
the contrary, taking his silence as a wish to be let alone, she 
turned and sought her amusements. 

And as to his ailment. If there be such a thing as a bro- 
ken heart, his was broken. He had lived, as noticed before, 
for a single purpose, hope of which had kept him alive, sur- 
vivor of a mighty brotherhood. That hope the ’tzin in the 
last interview took away with him ; and an old man without 
a hope is already dead. 

Measuring time in the chamber by its upper-world divisions, 
noon and night came, and still the paba lay in the dismal 
coma. Twice the slave had appeared at the door with the 
customary meals. Tecetl heard and answered his signals. 
Meantime, — last and heaviest of misfortunes, — the fire 
of the temple went out. When the sacred flame was first 
kindled is not known ; relighted at the end of the last 
great cycle of fifty-two years, however, it had burned ever 
since, served by the paba. Year after year his steps, ascend- 
ing and descending, had grown feebler ; now they utterly 
failed. ** Where is the fire on the old Cu ? ” asked the night- 
watchers of each other. “ Dead,” was the answer. “ Then 
is Mualox dead.” 

And still another day like the other ; and at its close the 
faded hands of the sufferer dropped upon his breast. Many 


396 


THE FAIR GOD. 


times did Tecetl come to the couch, and speak to him, and 
call him father, and offer him food and drink, and go away 
unnoticed. “ He is with Quetzal’,” she would say to herself 
and the birds. “ How the dear god loves him ! ” 

Yet another, the fourth day ; still the sleep, now become 
a likeness of death. And Tecetl, — she missed his voice, 
and the love-look of his great eyes, and his fondnesses of 
touch and smile ; she missed his presence, also. True, he 
was there, but not with her ; he was with Quetzal’. Strange 
that they should forget her so long ! She hovered around 
the couch, a little jealous nf the god, and disquieted, though 
she knew not by what. She was very, very lonesome. 

And in that time what suspense' would one familiar with 
perils have suffered in her situation ! If the paba dies, 
what will become of her! We know somewhat of the dif- 
ficulties of the passages in the Cfi. Can she find the way 
out alone 1 The slave will, doubtless, continue to bring food 
to the door, so that she may not starve ; and at the fountain 
she will get drink. Suppose, therefore, the supplies come 
for years, and she live so long ; how will the solitude affect 
her? We know its results upon prisoners accustomed to 
society ; but that is not her case : she never knew society, 
its sweets or sorrows. With her the human life of the great 
outside world is not a thing of conjecture, or of dreams, 
hopes, and fears, as the future life with a Cliristian ; 
she does not even know there is such a state of being. 
Changes will take place in the chamber; the birds and 
plants, all of life there besides herself, will die; the body 
of the good man, through sickening stages of decay, will re- 
turn to the dust, leaving a ghastly skeleton on the couch. 
Consequently, hers will come to be a solitude without relief, 
without amusement or occupation or society, and with but 
few memories, and nothing to rest a hope upon. Can a 
mind support itself, any more than a body ? In other words, 


THE PABA’S ANGEL. 


397 


if Mualox dies, how long until she becomes what it were 
charity to kill h Ah, never mortal more dependent or more 
terribly threatened ! Yet she saw neither the cloud nor 
its shadow, but followed her pastimes as usual, and sang her 
little songs, and slept when tired, — a simple-hearted child. 

I am not an abstractionist ; and the reader, whom I char- 
itably take to be what I am in that respect, has reason to be 
thankful ; for the thought of this girl, so strangely educated, 
— if the word may be so applied, — this pretty plaything 
of a fortune so eccentric, opens the gates of many a misty 
field of metaphysics. But I pass them by, and, following 
the lead of my story, proceed to say that, in the evening of 
the fourth day of the paba’s sickness, the bell, as usual, an- 
nounced the last meal at the door of the chamber. Tecetl 
went to the couch, and, putting her arms around the sleeper’s 
neck, tried to wake him ; but he lay still, his eyes closed, 
his lips apart, — in appearance, he was dying. 

“ Father, father, why do you stay away so long 1 ” she 
said. “ Come back, — speak to me, — say one word, — call 
me once more ! ” 

The dull ear heard not; the hand used to caressing 
was still. 

Tenderly she smoothed the white bbard upon his breast. 

Is Quetzal’ angry with me ? I love him. Tell him how 
lonely I am, and that the birds are not enough to keep me 
happy when you stay so long ; tell him how dear you are 
to me. Ask him to let you come back now.” 

Yet no answer. 

“ 0 Quetzal’, fair, beautiful god ! hear me,” she con- 
tinued. “Your finger is on his lips, or he would speak. 
Your veil is over his eyes, or he would see me. I am his 
child, and love him so much ; and he is hungry, and here 
are bread and meat. Let him come for a little while, and I 
will love you more than ever.” 


398 


THE FAIR GOD, 


And so she prayed and promised, but in vain. Quetzal’ 
was obdurate. With tears fast flowing, she arose, and stood 
by the coucli, and gazed upon the face now sadly changed 
by the long abstinence. And as she looked, there came upon 
her own face a new expression, that which the very young 
always have when at the side of the dying, — half dread, 
half curiosity, — wonder at the manifestation, awe of the 
power that invokes it, — the look we can imagine on the 
countenance of a simple soul in the presence of Death in- 
terpreting himself. 

At last she turned away, and went to the door. Twice 
she hesitated, and looked back. Wherefore ? Was she pon- 
dering the mystery of the deep sleep, or expecting the 
sleeper to awake, or listening to the whisper of a premo- 
nition fainter in her ears than the voice of the faintest 
breeze ] She went on, nevertheless ) she reached the door, 
and drew the curtain ; and there, m the full light, was 
Orteguilla. 

That we may judge the impression, let us recall what kind 
of youth the page was. I never saw him myself, but those 
who knew him well have told me he was a handsome fel- 
low; tall, gmceful, and in manner and feature essentially 
Spanish. He wore at* the time the bonnet and jaunty 
feather, and the purple mantle, of which I have spoken, and 
under that a close black jerkin, with hose to correspond ; half- 
boots, usual to the period, and a crimson sash about the 
waist, its fringed ends hanging down the left side, completed 
his attire. Altogether, a goodly young man ; not as gay, 
probably, as some then loitering amongst the alamedas of 
Seville ; for rough service long continued had tarnished his 
finery and abused his complexion, to say nothing of the ini- 
prints of present suffering ; yet he was enough so to excite 
admiration in eyes older than Tecetl’s, and more familial 
with the race. 


THE PABA’S ANGEL. 


399 


The two gazed at each other, wonder-struck. 

‘‘ Holy Mother ! ” exclaimed Orteguilla, the bread in his 
hand. “ Into what world have I been brought 1 Is this a 
spirit thou hast sent me 1 ” 

In his eyes, she was an angel ; in hers, he was more. She 
went to him, and knelt, and said, “ Quetzal’, dear Quetzal’, 
— beautiful god ! You are come to bring my father back to 
me. He is asleep by the fountain.” 

In her eyes, the page was a god. 

The paba’s descriptions of Quetzal’ had given her the ideal 
of a youth like Orteguilla. Of late, moreover, he had been 
constantly expected from Tlapallan, his isle of the blest; 
indeed, he had come, — so the father said. And the house 
was his. Whither would he go, if not there 1 So, from 
tradition oft repeated, from descriptions colored by passionate 
love, she knew the god ; and as to the man, — between the 
image and his maker there is a likeness ; so saith a book 
holier than the teoamoxtli. 

The page, as we have seen, was witty and shrewd, and 
acquainted well with the world ; his first impression went 
quickly ; her voice assured him that he was not come to any 
spirit land. The pangs of hunger, for the moment forgotten, 
returned, and I am sorry to say that he at once yielded to 
their urgency, and began to eat as heroes in romances never 
do. When the edge of his appetite was dulled, and he could 
think of something else, an impulse of courtesy moved him, 
and he said, — 

“ I crave thy pardon, fair mistress. I have been so much 
an animal as to forget that this food is thine, and required 
to subsist thee, and, perhaps, some other inhabiting here. 
I admit, moreover, that ordinarily the invitation should 
proceed from the owner of the feast ; but claim thy own, 
and partake with me ; else it may befall that in my great 
hunger thy share will be wanting. Fall to, I pray thee.” 


400 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Still kneeling, she stared at him, and, folding her hands 
upon her breast, replied, “ Quetzal’ knows that I am liis ser- 
vant. Let him speak so that I may understand.” 

‘‘ Por cierto I — it is true ! What knoweth she of my 
mother tongue 1 ” 

And thereupon, in the Aztecan, he asked her to help herself. 

“ No,” said she. “ The house and all belong to you. I 
am glad you have come.” 

** Mine 1 Whom do you take me for ? ” 

“The good god of my father, to whom I say all my 
prayers, — Quetzal’ ! ” 

“ Quetzal’, Quetzal’ ! ” he repeated, looking steadily in her 
face ; then, as if assured that he understood her, he took one 
of the goblets of chocolate, and tried to drink, but failed ; 
the liquid had been beaten into foam. 

“ In the world I come from, good girl,” he said, replacing 
the cup, “ people find need of water, which, just now, would 
be sweeter to my tongue than all the honey in the valley. 
Canst thou give me a drink 1 ” 

She arose, and answered eagerly, “ Yes, at the fountain. 
Let us go. By this time my father is awake.” 

So, so I ” he said to himself. “ Her father, indeed ! I 
have eaten his supper or dinner, according to the time of 
day outside, and he may not be as civil as his daughter, I 
will first know something about him.” And he asked, 
“Your father is old, is he not!” 

“ His beard and hair are very white. They have always 
been so.” 

Again he looked at her doubtingly. “ Always, said you 1 ” 

“ Always.” 

“Is he a priest 1 ” 

She smiled, and asked, “ Does not Quetzal’ know his own 
servant ‘i ” 

“ Has he company 2 ” 


THE PABA’S angel. 


401 


“ The birds may be with him.” 

He quit eating, and, much puzzled by the answer, re- 
flected. 

“ Birds, birds ! Am I so near daylight and freedom 1 Grant 
it, 0 Blessed Mother ! ” And he crossed himself devoutly. 

Then Tecetl said, earnestly, “Now that you have eaten, 
good Quetzal’, come and let us go to my father.” 

Orteguilla made up his mind speedily : he could not do 
worse than go back the way he came ; and the light here 
was so beautiful, and the darkness there so terrible : and 
here was company. Just then, also, as a further inducement, 
he heard the whistle of a bird, and fancied he distinguished 
the smell of flowers. 

“ A garden,” he said, in his soul, — “a garden, and birds, 
and liberty ! ” The welcome thought thrilled him inexpres- 
sibly. “Yes, I will go ” ; and, aloud, “ I am ready.” 

Thereupon she took his hand, and put the curtains aside, 
and led him into the paba’s World, never but once before 
seen by a stranger. 

This time forethought had not gone in advance to prepare 
for the visitor. The master’s eye was dim, and his careful 
hand still, in the sleep by the fountain. The neglect that 
darkened the fire on the turret was gloaming- the lamps \n 
the chamber ; one by one they had gone out, as all would 
have gone but for Tecetl, to whom the darkness and the 
shadows were hated enemies. Nevertheless, the light, fall- 
ing suddenly upon eyes so long filled ’vvith blackness as 
his had been, was blinding bright, insomuch that he clapped 
his hand over his face. Yet she led him on eagerly, 
saying, — 

“ Here, here, good Quetzal’. Here by the fountain he 
lies.” 

All her concern was for the paba. 

And through the many pillars of stone, and along a walk 

z 


402 


THE FAIR GOD. 


bounded by shrubs and all manner of dwarfed tropical trees, 
half blinded by the light, but with the scent of flowers and 
living vegetation in his nostrils, and the carol of birds in his 
ears, and full of wonder unspeakable, he was taken, without 
pause, to the fountain. At sight of the sparkling jet, his 
fever of thirst raged more intensely than ever, 

“ Here he is. Speak to him, — call him back to me ! As 
you love him, call him back, 0 Quetzal’ 1 ” 

He scarcely heard her. 

“ Water, water ! Blessed Mother, I see it again ! A cup, 
— quick, — a cup ! ” 

He seized one on the table, and drank, and drank again, 
crying between each breath, “ To the Mother the praise ! ” 
Hot until he was fully satisfied did he give ear to the girl’s 
entreaty. 

Looking to the couch, whither she had gone, he saw the 
figure of the paba stretched out like a corpse. He approached, 
and, searching the face, and laying his hand upon the breast 
over the heart, asked, in a low voice, “ How long has your 
father been asleep 1 ” 

“ A long time,” she replied. 

Jem Christo ! He is dead, and she does not know it ! ” 
he thought, amazed at her simplicity. 

Again he regarded her closely, and for the first time was 
struck by 'her beauty of face and form, by the brightness of 
her eyes, by the hair, wavy on the head and curling over 
the shoulders, by the simple, childish dress, and sweet voice ; 
above all, by the innocence and ineffable purity of her look 
and manner, all then discernible in the full glare of the 
lamps. And with what feeling he made discovery of her 
loveliness may be judged passably well by the softened tone 
in which he said, “Poor girU your fatt^.r will never, never 
wake.” 

Her eyes opened wide. 


THE PABA’S ANGEL. 


403 


“ Never, never wake ! Why 1 ” 

“ He is dead.” 

She looked at him wistfully, and he, seeing that she did 
not understand, added, He is in heaven ; or, as he him- 
self would have said, in the Sun.” 

“ Yes, hut you will let him come hack.” 

He took note of the trustful, beseeching look with which 
she accompanied the words, and shook his head, and, return- 
ing to the fountain, took a seat upon a bench, reflecting. 

“ What kind of girl is this 1 Not know death when he 
showeth so plainly ! Where hath she been living ] And I 
am possessed of St. Peter’s keys. I open Heaven’s gate to 
let the heathen out ! By the bones of the saints ! let him get 
there first ! The Devil hath him ! ” 

He picked up a withered flower lying by the bowl of the 
fountain, and went back to Tecetl. 

“You remember how beautiful this was when taken from 
the vine % ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ What ails it now % ” 

“ It is dead.” 

“ Well, did you ever know one of these, after dying, to 
come back to life 1 ” 

“No.” 

“No more can thy father regain his life. He, too, is 
dead. From what you see, he will go to dust ; therefore, 
leave him now, and let us sit by the fountain, and talk of 
escape ; for surely you know the way out of this.” 

From the flower, she looked to the dead, and, comprehend- 
ing the illustration, sat by the body, and cried. And so it 
happened that knowledge of death was her first lesson in life. 

And he respected her grief, and went and took a bench by 
the basin, and thought. 

“ Quetzal’, Quetzal’, — who is he? A god, no doubt ; yes, 


^04 


THE FAIR GOD. 


the one of whom the king so liveth in dread. I have heard 
his name. And I am Quetzal’ ! And this is his house — 
that is, my house ! A scurvy trick, by St. James ! Lost in 
my own house, — a god lost in his own temple ! ” 

And as he could then well afford, being full-fed, he 
laughed at the absurd idea ; and in such mood, fell into a 
revery, and grew drowsy, and finally composed himself on 
the bench, and sunk to sleep. 


CHAPTER IX. 

LIFE IN THE PABa’s WORLD. 

HEX the page awoke, after a long, refreshing sleep. 



VV he saw the fountain first, and Tecetl next. She 
was sitting a little way off, upon a mat stretched on the 
floor. A number of birds were about her, whistling and 
coquetting with each other. One or two of very beautiful 
plumage balanced themselves on the edge of the basin, and 
bathed their wings in the crystal water. Through half-shut 
eyes, he studied her. She was quiet, — thinking of what 1 
Of what do children think in their waking dreams 1 Yet he 
might have known, from her pensive look and frequent 
sighs, that the fountain was singing to deaf ears, and the 
birds playing their tricks before sightless eyes. She was 
most probably thinking of what he had so lately taught 
her, and nursed the great mystery as something past finding 
out ; many a wiser head has done the same thing. 

Xow, Orteguilla was very sensible of her loveliness ; he 
was no less sensible, also, that she was a mystery out of the 
common way of life ; and had he been in a place of safety, 
in the palace of Axaya’, he would have stayed a long time; 


LIFE IN THE PABA’S WORLD. 


405 


pretending sleep, in order to study her unobserved. But 
his situation presently rose to mind ; the yellow glow of 
the lamps suggested the day outside : the birds, liberty ; 
the fountain and shrubbery, the world he had lost ; and 
the girl, life, — his life, and all its innumerable strong at- 
tachments. And so, in his mind, he ran over his adven- 
tures in the house. Ho surveyed all of the chamber that 
was visible from the bench. The light, the fountain, the 
vegetation, the decorated walls, — everything in view de- 
pendent upon the care of man. Where so much was to be 
done constantly, was there not something to be done at 
once, — something to save life 1 There were the lamps : 
how were they supplied ? They might go out. And, Jesu 
Christo ! the corpse of the paba ! He sat up, as if touched 
by a spear : there it was, in all the repulsiveness of death. 

The movement attracted the girl’s attention; she arose, 
and waited for him to speak. 

“ Good morning, — if morning it be,” he said. 

She made no reply. 

“ Come here,” he continued. “ I have some questions to 
ask.” 

She drew a few steps nearer. A bird with breast of 
purple and wings of snow flew around her for a while, 
then settled upon her hand, and was drawn close to her 
bosom. He remembered, from Father Bartolome’s reading, 
how the love of God once before took a bird’s form ; and 
forthwith his piety and superstition hedged her about with 
sanctity. What with the white wings upon her breast, and 
the whiter innocency within, she was safe as if bound by 
walls of bi-ass. 

‘‘ Have no fear, I pray you,” he said, misinterpreting her 
respectful sentiment. “You and I are two people in a diffi- 
cult strait, and, if I mistake not, much dependent upon 
each other. A God, of whom you never heard, but whom 


406 


THE FAIR GOR 


I will tell you all about, took your father away, and sent 
me in his stead. The road thither, I confess, has been toil- 
some and dreadful Ah me, I shudder at the thought ! 

He emphasized his feelings by a true Spanish shrug of the 
shoulders. 

“ This is a strange place,” he next said. ‘‘ How long have 
you been here 1 ” 

“ I cannot say.” 

“ Can you remember coming, and who brought you 1 ” 

“ Ho.” 

You must have been a baby.” He looked at her with 
pity. Have you never been elsewhere ” 

“ Ho, never.” 

“ Ah, by the Mother that keeps me ! Always here ! And 
the sky, and sun, and stars, and all God’s glory of nature, 
seen in the valleys, mountains, and rivers, and seas, — have 
they been denied you, poor girl ? 

‘‘ I have seen them all,” she answered. 

“ Where r’- 

“ On the ceiling and walls.” 

He looked up at the former, and noticed its excellence of 
representation. 

“Very good, — beautiful!” he said, in the way of crit- 
icism. “ Who did the work ? 

“ Quetzal’.” 

“ And who is Quetzal’ 1 ” 

“ Who should know better than the god himself 1 ” 

“ Me ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

Again he shrugged his shoulders. 

“ My name, then, is Quetzal’. How, what is yours 1 ” 

“Tecetl.” 

“Well, then, Tecetl, let me undeceive you. In the first 
place, I am not Quetzal’, or any god. I am a man, as your 


LIFE IN THE PABA’S WORLD. 


407 


father there was. My name is Orteguilla ; and for the time 
I am page to the gi’eat king Montezuma. And before long, 
if I live, and get out of this place, as I most devoutly pray, 
I will he a soldier. In the next place you are a girl, and 
soon will he a woman. You have been cheated of life. By 
God’s help, I will take you out of this. Do you understand 
mer’ 

No ; unless men and gods are the same.” 

“ Heaven forbid ! ” He crossed himself fervently. Do 
you not know what men are 1 ” 

“ All my knowledge of things is from the pictures on the 
walls, and what else you see here.” 

“ Jesu Christo ! ” he cried, in open astonishment. “ And 
did the good man never tell you of the world outside, — of 
its creation, and its millions upon millions of people % ” 

“No.” 

“Of the world in which you may find the originals 
all that is painted on the walls, more beautiful than 
colors can make them 1 ” 

He received the same reply, but, still incredulous, went on. 

“ Who takes care of these plants ? ” 

“My father.” 

“A servant brings your food to the door — may he do 
BO again ! Have you not seen him ? ” 

“No.” 

V Where does the oil that feeds the lamps come from ? ” 

“ From Quetzal’.” 

Just then a lamp went out. He arose hastily, and saw 
that the contents of the cup were entirely consumed. 
“ Tecetl, is there plenty of oil 1 Where do you keep it % 
Tell me.” 

“ In a jar, there by the door. While you were asleep, I 
refilled the cups, and now the jar is empty.” 

He turned pale. Who better than he knew the value of 


408 


THE FAIR GOD. 


the liquid that saved them from the darkness so horribly 
peopled by hunger and thirst ? If exhausted, where could 
they get more 'I Without further question, he went through 
the chamber, and collected the lamps, and put them all out 
except one. Then he brought the jar from the door, and 
poured the oil back, losing not a drop. 

Tecetl remonstrated, and cried when she saw the darkness 
invade the chamber, blotting out the walls, and driving the 
birds to their perches, or to the fountain yet faintly illumi- 
nated. But he was firm. 

“ Fie, fie ! ” he said. “ You should laugh, not cry. Did I 
not tell you about the world above this, so great, and so full 
of people, like ourselves 1 And did I not promise to take 
you there 1 I am come in your father’s stead. Everything 
must contribute to our escape. We must think of nothing 
else. Do you understand? This chamber is but one of 
many, in a house big as a mountain, and full of passages in 
which, if we get lost, we might wander days and days, and 
then not get out, unless we had a light to show us the way. 
So we must save the oil. When this supply gives out, as it 
soon will if we are not careful, the darkness that so fright- 
ens you will come and swallow us, and we shall die, as did 
your father there.” 

The last suggestion sufficed ; she dried her tears, and drew 
closer to him, as if to say, ‘‘ I confide in you ; save me.” 

Nature teaches fear of death ; so that separation from the 
breathless thing upon the couch was not like parting from 
Mualox. Whether she touched his hand or looked in his 
face now, “ Go hence, go hence ! ” was what she seemed to 
hear. The stony repulsion that substituted his living love 
reconciled her to the idea of leaving home, for such the 
chamber had been to her. 

Here I may as well confess the page began to do a great 
deal of talking, — a consequence, probably, of having a good 


LIFE IN THE PABA’S WORLD. 


409 


listener ; or he may have thought it a duty to teach all 
that was necessary to prepare his disciple for life in the new 
world. In the midst of a lecture, the tinkle of a beU 
brought him to a hasty pause. 

“ Now, 0 Blessed Mother, now I am happy ! Thou hast 
not forsaken me ! I shall see the sun again, and brave old 
Spain. Live my heart ! ” he cried, as the last tinkle trem- 
bled, and died in the silence. 

Seeing that she regarded him with surprise, he said, in 
her tongue, “ I was thanking the Mother, Tecetl. She will 
save us both. Go now, and bring the breakfast, — I say 
breakfast, not knowing better, — and while we eat I will 
tell you why I am so glad. When you have heard me, you 
will be glad as I am.” 

• She went at once, and, coming back, found him bathing 
his face and head in the water of the basin, — a healthful 
act, but not one to strengthen the idea of his godship. 
She placed the tray upon the table, and helped him to 
napkin and comb ; then they took places opposite each 
other, with the lamp between them; whereupon she had 
other proof of his kind of being ; for it is difficult to think 
of a deity at table, eating. The Greeks felt the incongruity, 
and dined their gods on nectar and ambrosia, leaving us to 
imagine them partaken in some other than the ordinary, 
vulgar way. Verily, Tecetl was becoming accustomed to the 
stranger ! 

And while they ate, he explained his plans, and talked of 
the upper world, and described its wonders and people, 
until, her curiosity aroused, she plied him with questions ; 
and as point after point was given, we may suppose nature 
asserted itself, and taught her, by what power there is in 
handsome youth, with its bright eyes, smooth face, and 
tongue more winsome than wise, that life in the said world 
was a desirable exchange for the monotonous drifting to 
18 


410 


THE FAIR GOD. 


which she had been so long subjected. We may also sup- 
pose that she was not slow to observe the difference between 
Mualox and the page ; which was that between age and 
youth, or, more philosophically, that between a creature to 
be revered and a creature to be admired. 

# # # # # 


CHAPTER X. 

THE ANGEL BECOMES A BEADSWOMAN. 

T he stars at the foot of the last chapter I called in as 
an easy bridge by which to cross an interval of two 
days, — a trick never to be resorted to except when there is 
nothing of interest to record, as was the case here. 

Orteguilla occupied the interval very industriously, if not 
pleasantly. He had in hand two tasks, — one to instruct 
Tecetl about the world to which he had vowed to lead her ; 
the other to fix upon a plan of escape. The first he found 
easy, the latter difficult ; yet he had decided, and his prepara- 
tions for the attempt, sufficient, he thought, though simple, 
lay upon the floor by the fountain. A lamp shed a dim light 
over the scene. 

So, so, Tecetl : are we ready now 1 ” he asked. 

“You are the master,” she replied. 

“ Very good, I will be assured.” 

He went through a thorough inspection. 

“ Here are the paint and brush ; here the oil and lamp ; 
here the bread and meat, and the calabash of water. So far, 
good, very good. And here is the mat, — very comfortable, 
Tecetl, if you have to make your bed upon a stone in the 
floor. Now, are we ready 1 ” 


THE ANGEL BECOMES A BEADSWOMAN. 


411 


“Yes, if you say so.” 

“ Good again ! The Mother is with us. Courage ! You 
shall see the sun and sky, or I am not a Spaniard. Listen, 
now, and I will explain.” 

They took seats upon the bench, this time together ; for 
the strangeness was wellnigh gone, and they had come to 
have an interest in a common purpose. 

“You must know, then, that I have two reliances : first, 
the man who brings the tray to the door : next, the Blessed 
Mother.” 

“ I will begin with the first,” he said, after a pause. “ The 
man is a slave, and, therefore, easy to impose upon. If he 
is like his class, from habit, he asks no questions of his 
superiors. Your father — I speak from what you have told 
me — was thoughtful and dreamy, and spoke but little to 
anybody, and seldom, if ever, to his servants. You are not 
well versed in human nature ; one day, no doubt, you will 
be ; then you will be able to decide whether I am right in 
believing that the traits of master and slave, which I have 
mentioned, are likely to help us. I carried your father’s 
body over to the corner yonder, — you were asleep at the 
time, — and laid it upon the floor, as we Christians serve our 
dead. I made two crosses, and put one upon his lips, the 
other on his breast ; he will sleep all the better for them. 
As you would have done, had you been present, I also cov^ 
ered him with flowers. One other thing I did.” 

He took a lamp, and was gone a moment. ^ 

“ Here are your father’s gown and hood,” he said, com- 
ing back. “ I doubt whether they would sell readily in 
the market. He will never need them again. I took them 
to help save your life, — a purpose for which he would 
certainly have given them, had he been alive, I will put 
them on.” 

He laid his bonnet on the bench ; then took off his boots. 


412 


THE FAIR GOD. 


and put on the gown, — a garment of coarse black manta, 
loose in body and sleeves, and hanging nearly to the feet. 
Tying the cord about his waist, and drawing the hood over 
his head, he walked away a few steps, saying, — 

Look at me, Tecetl. Your father was very old. Did he 
stoop much h as much as this ? ” 

He struck the good man’s habitual posture, and, in a mo- 
ment after, his slow, careful gait. At the sight, she could 
not repress her tears. 

“ What, crying again ! ” he said. “ 1 shall be ashamed of 
you soon. If we fail, then you may cry, and — I do not 
know but that I will join you. People who weep much 
cannot hear as they ought, and I want you to hear every 
word. To go on, then : In this guise I mean to wait for 
the old slave. When he lets the tray down, I will be 
there to climb the ladder. He will see the hood and gown, 
and think me his old master. He will not speak, nor will I. 
He will let me get to his side, and then — ” 

After reflection, he continued, — 

“ Ah, Tecetl ! you know not what troubles women some- 
times are. Here am I now. How easy for me, in this 
guise, to follow the slave out of the temple ! The most I 
would have to do would be to hold my tongue. But you, — 
I cannot go and leave you ; the Senor Hernan would not 
forgive me, and I could not forgive myself. Nevertheless, 
you are a trouble. For instance, when the slave sees you 
with me, will he not be afraid, and run? or, to prevent 
that, shall I not have to make him a prisoner? That 
involves a struggle. I may have to fight him, to wound 
him. I may get hurt myself, and then — alas ! what would 
become of us ? ” 

Again, he stopped, but at length proceeded, — 

“ So much for that. Now for my other reliance, — the 
Blessed Lady. If the slave escapes me, you see, Tecetl, I must 


THE ANGEL BECOMES A BEADSWOMAN. 


413 


trust to what the infidels call Fortune, — a wicked spirit, 
sometimes good, sometimes bad. I mean we shall then have 
to hunt the way out ourselves ; and, having already tried 
that, I know what will happen. Hence these preparations. 
With the paint, I will mark the corners we pass, that I may 
know them again ; the lamp will enable me to see the marks 
and keep the direction ; if we get hungry, here are bread and 
meat, saved, as you know, from our meals ; if we get thirsty, 
the calabash will be at hand. That is what I call trusting 
to ourselves ; yet the Blessed Mother enabled me to antici- 
pate aU these wants, and provide for them, as we have 
done ; therefore I call her my reliance. Now you have my 
plans. I said you were my trouble ; you cannot work, or 
think, or fight ; yet there is something you can do. Tecetl, 
you can be my pretty beadswoman. I see you do not know 
what that is. I will explain. Take these beads.” 

While speaking, he took a string of them from his 
neck. 

“ Take these beads, and begin now to say, ‘ 0 Blessed 
Mother, beautiful Mother, save us for Christ’s sake.’ Repeat ! 
Good ! ” he said, his eyes sparkling. “ I think the prayer 
never sounded as sweetly before ; nor was there ever cavalier 
with such a beadswoman. Again.” 

And again she said the prayer. 

“ Now,” he said, “ take the string in your own hand, — 
thus ; drop one bead, — thus ; and keep on praying, and 
for every prayer drop one bead. Only think, Tecetl, how I 
shall be comforted, as I go along the gloomy passages, to know 
that right behind me comes one, so lately a heathen but now 
a Christian, at every step calling on the Mother. Who 
knows but we shall be out and in the beautiful day before 
the beads are twice counted! If so, then shall we know 
that she cared for us ; and when we reach the palace we will 
go to the chapel, with good Father Bartolom6, and say the 


414 


THE FAIR GOD. 


prayer together once for every bead on the string. So I 
vow, and do you the same.” 

“ So I vow,” she said, with a pretty submission. 

Then, by ropes fixed for the purpose, he raised the cala- 
bash, and mat, and bundle of provisions, and swung them 
lightly over his shoulders. Under his arm he took an earthen 
vase filled with oil. 

“ Let us to the door now. The slave should be there. 
Before we start, look around : you are leaving this place 
forever.” 

The thought went to her heart. 

“ O my birds ! What will become of them % ” 

“ Leave them to God,” he replied, laconically. 

There were tears and sobs, in the midst of which he 
started off, lamp in hand. She gave a look to the fountain, 
within the circle of whose voice nearly all her years had 
been passed. In her absence, it would play and sing, would 
go on as of old ; but in her absence who would be there to 
see and hear 1 In the silence and darkness it would live, 
but nevermore for her. 

And she looked to the corner of the chamber where Orte- 
guilla had carried the body of the paba. Her tears attested 
her undiminished affection for him. The recollection of his 
love outlived the influence of his Will. His World was 
being abandoned, having first become a tomb, capacious and 
magnificent, — his tomb. But Quetzal’ had not come. 
Broken are thy dreams, 0 Mualox, wasted thy wealth of 
devotion ! Yet, at this parting, thou hast tears. — first 
and last gift of Love, the sweetest of human principles, 
and the strongest, — stronger than the Will ; for if the lat- 
ter cannot make God of a man, the former can take him 
to God. 

And while she looked, came again the bird of the breast 
of purple and wings of snow, which she placed in her bosom ; 


THE ANGEL BECOMES A BEADSWOMAN. 


415 


tb^u she followed the page, saying, trustfully, “0 Blessed 
Mother, beautiful Mother, save us for Christ’s sake ! ” 

Outside the curtain door he deposited his load, and care- 
fully explained to Tecetl the use of the ladder. Then he 
placed a stool for her. 

“ Sit now ; you can do nothing more. Everything de- 
pends on the slave : if he behaves well, we shall have no 
need of these preparations, and they may he left here. But 
whether he behave well or ill, remember this, Tecetl, — cease 
not to pray ; forget not the heads.” 

And so saying, he tossed a stout cord up through the 
trap ; tlien, leaving the lamp below, he clomh to the floor 
above. His anxiety may be imagined. Fortunately, the 
waiting was not long. Through the gallery distantly he saw 
a light, which — praise to the Mother ! — came his way. He 
descended the ladder. 

He comes, and is alone. Be of cheer, Tecetl ; he of 
cheer, and pray. 0 if the Mother hut stay with us 
now ! ” 

Easter fell the heads. 

When the sound of footsteps overhead announced the ar- 
rival of the slave, OrteguiUa put his dagger between his 
teeth, drew the hood over his head, and began to ascend. 
He dared not look up ; he trusted in the prayers of the little 
beadswoman, and clomh on. 

His head reached the level of the floor, and with the trap 
gaping wide around, he knew himself under the man’s eyes. 
Another moment, and his hand was upon the floor ; slowly 
he raised himself clear of the rope ; he stood up, then turned 
to the slave, and saw him to he old, and feeble, and almost 
naked ; the lamp was on his forehead, the tray at his feet ; 
his face was downcast, his posture humble. The Spaniard’s 
blood leaped exultantly ; nevertheless, carefully and deliber- 
ately, as became his assumed character, he moved to one side 


416 


THE FAIR GOD. 


of the passage, to clear the way to the trap. The servant 
accepted the movement, and without a word took the lamp 
from his head, crossed the great stone, fixed the ropes, and 
stooped to lower the tray. 

Orteguilla had anticipated everything, even this action, 
which gave him his supreme advantage ; so he picked up 
the cord lying near, and stepped to the old man’s side. 
When the tray was landed below, the latter raised him- 
self upon his knees ; in an instant the cord was around 
his body ; before he understood the assault, escape was im- 
possible. 

Orteguilla, his head yet covered by the hood, said calmly, 
“ Be quiet, and you are safe.” 

The man looked up, and replied, “ I am the paba’s servant 
now, even as I was when a youth. I have done no wrong, 
and am not afraid.” 

“ I want you to live. Only move not.” 

Then the page called, “ Tecetl ! Tecetl ! ” 

“ Here,” she answered. 

“ Try, now, to come up. Be careful lest you fall. If 
you need help, tell me.” 

“ What shall I do with the bread and meat, and — ” 

“Leave them. The Mother has been with us. Come 
up.” 

The climbing was really a sailor’s feat, and difficult for 
her ; finally, she raised her head through the trap. At the 
sight, the slave shrank back, as if to run. Orteguilla spoke 
to him. 

“Be not afraid of the child. I have raised her to help 
me take care of the temple. We are going to the chapel 
now.” 

The man turned to him curiously ; possibly he detected 
a strange accent under the hood. When, on her part, Tecetl 
saw him, she stopped,, full of wonder as of fear. Old and 


THE ANGEL BECOMES A BEADSWOMAN. 


417 


ugly as he was, he yet confirmed the page’s story, and brought 
the new world directly to her. So a child stops, and regards 
the first person met at the door of a strange house,’ — at' 
tracted, curious, afraid. 

“ Come on,” said Orteguilla. 

. She raised her hand overhead, and held up the bird with 
jthe white wings. 

“ Take it,” she said. 

Used as he was' to wonderful things in connection with 
his old master, the servant held hack. A girl and a bird 
from the cells, — a mystery, indeed ! 

“ Take it,” said Orteguilla. 

He did so ; whereupon the page assisted her to the floor. 

“We are almost there, — almost,” he said, cheerfully. 
“ Have you kept count of the prayers 1 Let me see the 
beads.” 

She held out the rosary. 

“ Ten beads more, — ten prayers yet. The Mother is with 
us. Courage ! ” 

Then of the slave he asked, — 

“ How is the day without % ” 

“ There is not a cloud in the sky.” 

“ Is it morning or evening 1 ” 

“ About midday.” 

“ Is the city quiet 1 ” 

“ I cannot say.” 

“ Very weU. Giye the girl her bird, and lead to the court- 
yard.” / 

And they started, the slave ahead, held in check by the 
cord in the Spaniard’s hand. The light was faint and un- 
steady. Once they ascended a flight of steps, and twice 
changed direction. When the page saw the many cells on 
either side, and the number of intersecting passages, all equal 
in height and width, and bounded by the same walls of 
18 * aa 


418 


THE FAIR GOD. 


rough red stone, he understood how he became lost ; and 
with a shuddering recollection of his wanderings through 
the great house, he could not sufficiently thank the Provi- 
dence that was now befriending him. 

They clomb yet another stairway, and again changed di- 
rection; after that, a little farther walk, and OrteguiUa 
caught sight of a doorway penetrated by a pure white light, 
which he recognized as day. Words cannot express his 
emotion ; his spirit could hardly be controlled ; he would 
have shouted, sung, danced, — anything to relieve himself 
of this oppression of happiness. But he thought, if he were 
out of the temple, he would not yet be out of danger ; that 
he had to make way, by the great street from which he 
had been driven, to the quarters of his friends, before he 
could promise himself rest and safety ; the disguise was the 
secret of his present good-fortune, and must help him further. 
So he restrained himself, saying to Tecetl, — 

“ For the time, cease your prayers, little one. The world 
I promised to bring you to is close by. I see the daylight.” 

There was indeed a door into the patio, or court-yard, of 
the temple. Under the lintel the page lingered a moment, 
— the court was clear. Then he gave the cord into the ser- 
vant’s hand, with the usual parting salutation, and stepped 
once more into the air, fresh with the moisture of the lake and 
the fragrance of the valley. He looked to the sky, blue as 
ever ; and through its serenity, up sped his grateful Ave Maria. 
In the exulting sense of rescue, he forgot all else, and was well 
across the court to the steps leading to the azoteas, when he 
thought of Tecetl. He looked back, and did not see her ; 
he ran to the door ; she was there. The bird had fallen to 
the floor, and was fluttering blindly about ; her hands were 
pressed hard over her face. 

“ What ails you ” he asked, petulantly. “ This is not a 
time to halt and cry. Come on.” 


THE ANGEL BECOMES A BEADSWOMAN. 


419 


** I cannot — ” 

Cannot ! Give me your hand.” 

He led her through the door, under the colonnade, out into 
the court. 

** Look up, Tecetl, look up ! See the sky, drink the air. 
You are free ! ” 

She uncovered her eyes ; they filled as with fiery arrows. 
She screamed, staggered as if struck, and cried, ‘‘Where 
are you 1 I am lost, I am blind ! ” 

“0 Madre de Dios ! ” said Orteguilla, comprehending the 
calamity, and all its inconveniences to her and himself. 
“ Help me, most miserable of wretches, — help me to a little 
wisdom ! ” 

To save her from falling, he had put his arm around her ; 
and as they stood thus, — she the picture of suffering, and he 
overwhelmed by perplexity, — help from any quarter would 
have been welcome ; had the slave been near, he might have 
abandoned her ; but aid there was not. So he led her tender- 
ly to the steps, and seated her. 

“ How stupid,” he said in Spanish, — “ how stupid not to 
think of this ! If, the moment I was born, they had carried 
me out to take a look at the sun, shining as he is here, I 
would have been blinder than any beggar on the Prado, 
blinder than the Bernardo of whom I have heard Don 
Pedro teU. My nurse was a sensible woman.” 

Debating what to do, he looked at Tecetl ; and for the 
first time since she had come out of the door, he noticed 
her dress, — simply a cotton chemise, a skirt of the same 
reaching below the knees, a blue sash around the waist, 
— very simple, but very clean. He noticed, also, the exceed- 
ing delicacy of her person, the transparency of her complex- 
ion, the profusion of her hair, which was brown in the sun. 
Finally, he observed the rosary. 

“ She is not clad according to the laws which govern high- 


420 


THE FAIR GOD. 


born ladies over the water ; yet she is beautiful, and — by 
the Mother ! she is a Christian. Enough. Ey God’s love, I, 
who taught her to pray, will save her, though I die. Help 
me, all the saints ! ” 

He adjusted the hood once more, and, stooping, said, in 
his kindliest tone, “Pshaw, Tecetl, you are not blind. The 
light of the sun is so much stronger than that of your lamps 
that your eyes could not bear it. Cheer up, cheer up ! And 
now put your arm around my neck. I will carry you to 
the top of these steps. We cannot stay here.” 

She stretched out her arms. 

“ Hark ! ” he cried. “ What is that 1 ” 

He stood up and listened. The air above the temple 
seemed full of confused sounds ; now resembling the distant 
roar of the sea, now the hum of insects, now the yells of 
men. 

“ Jesu ! I know that sound. There, — there ! ” 

He listened again. Through the soaring, muffled din, 
came another report, as of thunder below the horizon. 

“ It is the artillery ! By the mother that bore me, the 
guns of Mesa ! ” 

The words of lo’, spoken in Xoli’s portico, came back to 
him. 

“ Battle ! As I live, they are fighting on the street ! ” 

And he, too, sat down, listening, thinking. How was he 
to get to his countrymen ? 

The sounds overhead continued, at intervals intensified 
by the bellowing guns. Battle has a fascination which 
draws men as birds are said to be drawn by serpents. They 
listen ; then wish to see ; lingering upon the edge, they catch 
its spirit, and finally thrill with fierce delight to find them- 
selves within the heat and fury of its deadly circle. The 
page knew the feeling then. To see the fight was an over- 
mastering desire. 


THE ANGEL BECOMES A BEADSWOMAN. 


421 


Tecetl, poor child, you are better now 1 ” 

“ I dare not open my eyes.” 

“ Well, I will see for you. Put your arms around my 
neck.” 

And with that^ he carried her up the steps. All the time, 
he gave ear to the battle. 

“ Listen, Tecetl ; hear that noise ! A battle is going on 
out in the street, and seems to be coming this way. I 
will lead you into the chapel here, — a holy place, so your 
father would have said. In the shade, perhaps, you can 
find relief.” 

“ How pleasant the air is ! ” she said, as they entered. 

‘‘Yes, and there is Quetzal’,” — he pointed to the idol, — 
“ and here the step before the altar upon which, I venture, 
your father spent half his life in worship. Sit, and rest 
until I return.” 

“ Do not leave me,” she said. 

“ A little while only. I must see the fight. Some good 
may come of it, — who knows 1 Be patient ; I will not 
leave you.” 

He went to the door. The sounds were much lodder and 
nearer. All the air above the city apparently was fiUed 
with them. Amongst the medley, he distinguished the 
yeUs of men and peals of horns. Shots were frequent, and 
now and then came the heavy, pounding report of cannon. 
He had been at Tabasco, at Tzimpantzinco, and in the three 
pitched battles in Tlascala, and was familiar with what he 
heard. 

“ How they fight ! ” he said to himself. “ Don Pedro is 
a good sword and brave gentlemen, but — ah ! if the Senor 
Hernan were there, I should feel better : he is a good 
sword, brave gentleman, and wise general, also. Heaven 
fights for him. Ill betide Narvaez J Why could he not 
have put off his coming until the city was reduced? Jesu ! 


422 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The sounds come this way now. Victory ! The guns have 
quit, the infidels fly, on their heels ride the cavaliers. 
Victory ! ” 

And so, intent upon the conflict, insensibly he approached 
the front of the temple, before described as one great 
stairway. On the topmost step he paused. A man look- 
ing at him from the street below would have said, ‘‘It 
is only a paba ” ; and considering, further, that he was a 
paba serving the forsaken shrine, he would have passed by 
without a second look. 

What he looked down upon was a broad street, crowded 
with men, — not citizens, but warriors, and warriors in such 
splendor of costume that he was fairly dazzled. Their 
movement suggested a retreat, whereat pride dashed his eyes 
with the spray of tears ; he dared not shout. 

More and more eagerly he listened to the coming tumult. 
At last, finding the attraction irresistible, he descended the 
steps. 

The enemy were not in rout. They moved rapidly, 
but in ranks extending the width of the street, and per- 
fectly ^dered. The right of their column swept by the 
Spaniard almost within arm’s reach. He heard the breath- 
ing of the men, saw their arms, — their shields of quilted 
cotton, embossed with brass ; their armor, likewise of 
quilted cotton, but fire-red with the blood of the cochineal ; 
he saw their musicians, drummers, and conch-blowers, the 
latter making a roar ragged and harsh, and so loud that 
a groan or death-shriek could not be heard ; he saw, too, 
their chiefs, with helms richly plumed or grotesquely 
adorned with heads of wild animals, with escaupiles of 
plumage, gorgeous as hues of sunset, with lances and ma- 
quahuitls, and shields of bison-hide or burnished silver, 
mottoed and deviced, like those of Christians ; amongst 
them, also, he saw pabas, bareheaded, without arms, frocked 


THE ANGEL BECOMES A BEADSWOMAN. 


423 


like himself, singing wild hymns, or chanting wilder 
epics, or shouting names of heroic gods, or blessing the 
brave and cursing the craven, — the Sun for the one, Mict- 
lan for the other. The seeing all these things, it must be 
remembered, was very different from their enumeration; 
but a glance was required. 

The actual struggle, as he knew, was at the rear of the 
passing column. In fancy he coulcf see horsemen plunging 
through the ranks, plying sword, lance, and battle-axe. And 
nearer they came. He could tell by the signs, as well as the 
sounds ; by the files beginning to crowd each other ; by the 
chiefs laboring to keep their men from falling into confused 
masses. At length the bolt of a cross-bow, striking a man, 
fell almost at his feet. Only the hand of a Spaniard could 
have launched the missile. 

“ They come, — they are almost here ! ’’ he thought, and 
then, “ 0 Madre de Dios ! If they drive the infidels past 
this temple, I am saved. And they will. Don Pedro’s 
blood is up, and in pursuit he thinks of nothing but to slay, 
slay. They will come ; they are coming ! There — Jesu 
Christo I That was a Christian shout ! ” 

The cross-bow bolts now came in numbers. The warriors 
protected themselves by holding their shields over the 
shoulder behind ; yet some dropped, and were trampled 
under foot. Orteguilla was himself in danger, but his sus- 
pense was so great that he thought only of escape ; each 
bolt was a welcome messenger, with tidings from friends. 

The column, meantime, seemed to become more disordered ; 
finally, its formation disappeared utterly; chiefs and war- 
riors were inextricably mixed together ; the conch-blowers 
blew hideously, but could not altogether drown the yells of 
the fighting men. 

Directly the page saw a rush, a parting in the crowd as 
of waters before a ship ; scores of dark faces, each a picture 


424 


THE FAIR GOD. 


of dismay, turned suddenly to look back ; he also looked, 
and over the heads and upraised shields, half obscured by a 
shower of stones and arrows, he saw a figure which might 
well have been taken for the fiend of slaughter, — a horse and 
rider, in whose action there were a correspondence and unity 
that made them for the time one fighting animal. A front- 
leted head, tossed up for a forward plunge, was what he saw 
of the horse ; a steel-clad form, swinging a battle-axe with 
the regularity of a machine, now to the right, now to the 
left of the horse’s neck, was all he saw of the rider. He 
fell upon his knees, muttering what he dared not shout, 
“ Don Pedro, brave gentleman ! I am saved ! I am saved ! ” 
Instantly he sprang to his feet. 0 my God ! Tecetl, — I 
had almost forgotten her ! ” 

He chmbed the steps again fast as the gown would 
permit. 

“ My poor girl, come ; the Mother offers us rescue. Can 
you not see a little ? ” 

She smiled faintly, and replied, “ I cannot say. I have 
tried to look at Quetzal’ here. He was said to be very beau- 
tiful ; my father always so described him ; but this thing is 
ugly. I fear I cannot see.” 

“It is a devil’s image, Tecetl, a devil’s image, — Satan 
himself,” said the page, vehemently. “ Let him not lose us a 
moment ; for each one is of more worth to us than the gold 
on his shield there. If you cannot see, give me your hand. 
Come ! ” 

He led her to the steps. The infidels below seemed to have 
held their ground awhile, fighting desperately. Eight or ten 
horsemen were driving them, though slowly; if one was 
struck down, another took his place. The street was dusty as 
with the sweeping of a whirlwind. Under the yellow cloud 
lay the dead and wounded. The air was alive with missiles, 
of which some flew above the temple, others dashed against 


THE ANGEL BECOMES A BEADSWOMAN. 


425 


the steps. It looked like madness to go down into such a 
vortex; hut there was no other chance. What moment Don 
Pedro might tire of killing no one could tell ; whenever he 
did, the recall would be sounded. 

“ What do I hear 'I What dreadful sounds ! ” said Tecetl, 
shrinking from the tumult. 

“ Battle,” he answered ; “ and what that is I have not 
time to tell ; we must go down and see.” 

He waited until the fighting was well past the front of 
the old Cfi, leaving a space behind the cavaliers clear of all 
save those who might never fight again ; then he threw back 
the hood, loosed the cord from his waist, and flung the dis- 
guise from him. 

“ How, my pretty beadswoman, now is the time ! Begin 
the prayer again : ‘ 0 Mother, beautiful Mother, save us for 
Christ’s sake ! ’ Keep the count with one hand ; put the 
other about my neck. Life or death, — now we go ! ” 

He carried her down the steps. Over a number of 
wounded wretches who had dragged themselves, half dead, 
out of the blood and trample, he crossed the pavement. A 
horseman caught sight of him, and rode to his side, and 
lifted the battle-axe. 

“ Hold, Senor ! I am Orteguilla. Viva Espana ! ” 

The axe dropped harmless ; up went the visor. 

In time, boy, — in time ! An instant more, and thy soul 
had been in Paradise,” cried Alvarado, laughing heartily. 
‘^What hast thou there? Something from the temple? 
But stay not to answer. To the rear, fast as thy legs 
can carry thee ! Paster ! Put the baggage down. We 
are tired of the slaughter ; but for thy sake, we wiU push 
the dogs a little farther. Begone ! Or stay ! Arrows are 
thicker here than curses in hell, and thou hast no armor. 
Take my shield, which I have not used to-day. How be 
offl” 


426 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Orteguilla set the girl upon her feet, took the shield, 
and proceeded to buckle it upon his arm, while Alvarado 
rode into the fight again. A moment more, and he would 
have protected her with the good steel wall. Before he 
could complete the preparation, he heard a cry, quick, shrill, 
and sharp, that seemed to pierce his ear like a knife, — the 
cry by which one in battle announces himself death-struck, 

— the cry once heard, never forgotten. He raised the shield, 

— too late ; she reeled and fell, dragging him half down. 

“ What ails thee now 1 ” he cried, in Spanish, forgetting 
himself. “ What ails thee 1 Hast thou looked at the sun 
again h ” 

He lifted her head upon his knee. 

“ Mother of Christ, she is slain ! ” he cried, in horror. 

An arrow descending had gone through her neck to the 
heart. The blood gushed from her mouth. He took her 
in his arms, and carried her to the steps of the temple. As 
he laid her down, she tried to speak, but failed ; then she 
opened her eyes wide : the light poured into them as into 
the windows of an empty house ; the soul was gone ; she 
was dead. 

In so short a space habitant of three worlds, — when was 
there the like ? 

Brom the peace of the old chamber to the din of battle, 
from the din of battle to the calm of paradise, — brief 
time, short way ! 

From the sinless life to the sinful she had come ; from 
the sinful life sinless she had gone ; and in the going what 
fulness of the mercy of God ! 

I cannot say the Spaniard loved her ; most likely his feel- 
ing was the simple affection we all have for things gentle and 
helpless, — a bird, a lamb, a child ; now, however, he knelt 
over her with tears ; and as he did so, he saw the rosary, 
and that all the beads but one were wet with her blood. He 


THE PUBLIC OPINION PROCLAIMS ITSELF. — BATTLE. 427 


took the string from the slender neck and laid her head 
upon the stone, and thought the unstained bead was for a 
prayer uncounted, — a prayer begun on earth and finished 
in heaven. 


CHAPTER XL 

THE PUBLIC OPINION PROCLAIMS ITSELF. BATTLE. 

OW now, thou here yeti In God’s name, what 



J — L madness hast thou 1 IJp, idiot ! up, and fly, or in 
mercy I will slay thee here ! ” 

As he spoke, Alvarado touched Orteguilla with the handle 
of his axe. The latter sprang up, alarmed. 

“ Mira^ Senor I She is just dead! I could not leave hef 
dying. I had a vow.” 

The cavalier looked at the dead girl ; his heart soft- 
ened. 

“ I give thee honor, lad, I give thee honor. Hadst thou 
left her living, shame would have been to thee forever. But 
waste not time in maudlin. Hell’s spawn is loose.” With 
raised visor, he stood in his stirrups. “ See, far as eye can 
reach, the street is full ! And hark to their yells ! Here, 
mount behind me ; we must go at speed.” 

The infidels, faced about, were coming back. The page 
gave them one glance, then caught the hand reached out 
to him, and placing his foot on the captain’s swung 
himself behind. At a word, up the street, over the bridges, 
by the pala*ces and temples, the horsemen galloped. The 
detachment, at the head of which they had sallied from 
the palace, — gunners, arquebusiers, and cross-bowmen, — > 
had been started in return some time before ; upon over- 
taking them, Alvarado rode to a broad-shouldered fellow, 


428 


THE FAIR GOD. 


whose grizzly beard overflowed the chin-piece of his mo- 
rion : — 

“ Ho, Mesa ! the hounds we followed so merrily were only 
feigning ; they have turned upon us. Do thou take the rear, 
with thy guns. We will to the front, and cut a path to the 
gate. Follow closely.” 

Doubt not, captain. I know the trick. I caught it in 
Italy.” 

“ Cierto ! What thou knowest not about a gun is not 
worth the knowing,” Alvarado said ; then to the page, “ Dis- 
mount, lad, and take place with these. What we have ahead 
may require free man and free horse. Picaro / If anybody 
IB killed, thou hast permission to use his arms. What say 
ye, companeros mios ? ” he cried, facing the detachment. 
•' What say ye “I Here I bring one whom we thought roasted 
and eaten by the cannibals in the temples. Either he hath 
escaped by miracle, or they are not judges of bones good 
to mess upon. He is without arms. Will ye take care of 
him*? I leave him my shield. Will ye take care of that 
also ? ” • • 

And Hajerra, the hunchback, replied, “ The shield we 
will take, Senor ; but — ” 

“ But what 1 ” 

“ Senor, may a Christian lawfully take what the infidels 
have refused 1 ” 

And they looked at Orteguilla, and laughed roundly, — 
the bold, confident adventurers; in the midst of the jollity, 
however, down the street came a sound deeper than that of 
the guns, — a sound of abysmal depth, like thunder, but 
without its continuity, — a divided, throbbing Sound, such 
as has been heard in the throat of a volcano. Alvarado 
threw up his visor. 

What now 1 ” asked Serrano, first to speak. 

“ One, two, three, — I have it ! ” the captain replied. 


THE PUBLIC OPINION PROCLAIMS ITSELF. — BATTLE. 429 


Count ye the strokes, — one, two, three. By the hones of 
the saints, the drum in the great temple ! Forward, com- 
rades ! Our friends are in peril ! If they are lost, so are 
we. Forward, in Christ’s name ! ” 

Afterwards they became familiar with the sound ; hut 
now, heard the first time in battle, every man of them was 
affected. They moved off rapidly, and there was no jesting, 
— none of the grim wit with which old soldiers sometimes 
cover the nervousness preceding the primary plunge into a 
doubtful fight. 

** Close the files. Be ready ! ” shouted Serrano. 

And ready they were, — matches lighted, steel-cords fiill 
drawn. Every drum-heat welded them a firmer unit. 

The roar of the combat in progress around the palace had 
been all the time audible to the returning party ; now they 
beheld the teocallis covered with infidels, and the street 
blockaded with them, while a cloud of smoke, slowly rising 
and slowly fading, bespoke the toils and braveries of the 
defence enacting under its dun shade. Suddenly, Alvarado 
stood in his stirrups, — 

Ola I what have we here ? ” 

A body of Aztecs, in excellent order, armed with spears of 
unusual length, and with a front that swept the street from 
waU to wall, was marching swiftly to meet him. 

There is wood enough in those spears to build a ship,” 
said a horseman. 

A few steps on another spoke, — 

If I may be allowed, Senor, I suggest that Mesa be called 
up to play upon them awhile.” 

But Alvarado’s spirit rose. 

“ ISTo ; there is an enemy fast coming behind us ; turn thy 
ear in that direction, and thou mayest hear them already. We 
cannot wait. Battle-axe and horse first ; if they fail, then 
the guns. Look to girth and buckle ! ” 


430 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Rode they then without halt or speech until the space be- 
tween them and the coming line was not more than forty 
yards. 

Are ye ready ? ” asked Alvarado, closing his visor. 

Ready, Senor.” 

“Axes, then! Follow me. Forward! Christo y Santi- 
ago 

At the last word, the riders loosed reins, and standing in 
their stirrups bent forward over the saddle-bow, as well to 
guard the horse as to discover points of attack ; each poised 
his shield to protect his breast and left side, — the axe and 
right arm would take care of the right side ; each took up 
the cry, Christo y Santiago ; then, like pillars of iron on 
.^steeds of iron, they charged. From the infidels one answer- 
ing yell, and down they sank, each upon his knee; and 
thereupon, the spears, planted on the ground, presented a 
front so bristling that leader less reckless than Alvarado 
would have stopped in mid-career. Forward, foremost in the 
charge, he drove, right upon the brazen points, a score or 
more of which rattled against his mail or that of his steed, 
and glanced harmlessly, or were dashed aside by the axe 
whirled from right to left with wonderful strength and skill. 
Something similar happened to each of liis followers. A 
moment of confusion, — man and beast in furious action, 
clang of blows, splintering of wood, and battle-cries, — then 
two results : the Christians were repulsed, and that before 
the second infidel rank had been reached ; and while they 
were in amongst the long spears, fencing and striking, clear 
above the medley of the mUee they heard a shout, Al- 
a lala ! Al-a-lala ! Alvarado looked that way ; looked 
through the yellow shafts and brazen points. Brief time 
had he ; yet he beheld and recognized the opposing leader. 
Behind the kneeling ranks he stood, without trappings, 
without a shield even; a maquahuitl, edged with flint, 


THE PUBLIC OPINION PROCLAIMS ITSELF.— BATTLE. 431 


sharp as glass, hard as steel, was his only weapon ; behind 
him appeared an irregular mass of probably half a thou- 
sand men, unarmed and almost naked. Even as the good 
captain looked, the horde sprang forward, and by press- 
ing between the files of spearmen, or leaping panther-like 
over their shoulders, gained the front. There they rushed 
upon the horsemen, entangled amidst the spears, — to cap- 
ture, not slay them ; for, by the Aztec code of honor, the 
measure of a warrior’s greatness was the number of prisoners 
he brought out of battle, a present to the gods, not the num- 
ber of foemen he slew. The rush was like that of wolves 
upon a herd of deer. First to encounter a Christian was the 
chief. The exchange of blows was incredibly quick. The 
horse reared, plunged blindly, then rolled upon the ground ; 
the flinty maquahuitl, surer than the axe, had broken its 
leg. A cry, sharpened by mortal terror, — a Spanish cry 
for help, in the Mother’s name. Christians and infidels 
looked that way, and from the latter burst a jubilant 

yell, — 

“ The ’tzin ! The ’tzin ! ” 

The successful leader stooped, and wrenched the shield 
from the fallen man ; then he swung the maquahuitl twice, 
and brought it down on the mailed head of the horse : the 
weapon broke in pieces ; the steed lay still forever. 

Now, Alvarado was not the man to let the cry of a comrade 
go unheeded. 

“ Turn, gentlemen ! One of us is down; hear ye not the 
name of Christ and the Mother h To the rescue ! Charge ! 
Christo y Santiago ! ” 

Forward the brave men spurred ; the spears closed around 
them as before, while the unarmed foe, encouraged by the 
’tzin’s achievement, redoubled their efforts to drag them from 
their saddles. In disregard of blows, given fast as skilled 
hands could rise and fall, some flung themselves upon the 


432 


THE FAIR GOD. 


legs and necks of the horses, where they seemed to cling 
after the axe had spattered their brains or the hoofs crushed 
their bones ; some caught the bridle-reins, and hung to them 
full weight ; others struggled with the riders directly, haul- 
ing at them, leaping behind them, catching sword-arm and 
shield ; and so did the peril finally grow that the Christians 
were forced to give up the rescue, the better to take care of 
themselves. 

God’s curses upon the dogs ! ” shouted Alvarado, in fury 
at sight of the Spaniard dragged away. “Back, some 
of ye, who can, to Serrano ! Bid him advance. Quick, 
or we, too, are lost ! ” 

IN’o need; Serrano was coming. To the very spears he 
advanced, and opened with cross-bow and arquebus ; yet the 
infidels remained firm. Then the dullest of the Christians 
discerned the ’tzin’s strategy, and knew well, if the line in 
front of them were not broken before the companies coming 
up the street closed upon their rear, they were indeed lost. 
So at the word, Mesa came, his guns charged to the muzzles. 
To avoid his own people, he sent one piece to the right of 
the centre of combat, and the other to the left, and trained 
both to obtain the deepest lines of cross-fire. The effect 
was indescribable ; yet the lanes cloven through the kneel- 
ing ranks were instantly refilled. 

The ’tzin became anxious. 

“ Look, Hualpa ! ” he said. “ The companies should be up 
by this time. Can you see them 1 ” 

“ The smoke is too great ; I cannot see.” 

Some of his people attacking the horsemen began to 
retreat behind the spearmen. He caught up the axe of 
the Spaniard, and ran where the smoke was most blinding. 
In a moment he was at the front ; clear, inspiring, joyous 
even, rose his cry. He rushed upon a bowman, caught him 
in his arms, and bore him off with aU his armor on. A 


THE PUBLIC OPINION PROCLAIMS ITSELF. — BATTLE. 433 


hundred ready hands seized the unfortunate. Again the 
cry, — 

“ The ’tzin ! The ’tzin ! ” 

‘‘ Another victim for the gods ! ” he answered. Hold 
fasi^ 0 my countrymen ! Behind the strangers come the 
companies. Do what I say, and Anahuac shall live.” 

At his word, they arose ; at his word again, they advanced, 
with levelled spears. Taster the missiles smote them ; the 
horsemen raged ; each Spaniard felt, unless that line were 
broken his doom was come. Alvarado fought, never thinking 
of defence. The bowmen and arquebusiers recoiled. Twice 
Mesa drew back his guns. Finally, Don Pedro outdid him- 
self, and broke the fence of spears ; his troop followed, him ; 
right and left they plunged, killing at every step. At places, 
the onset of the infidels slackened, halted ; then the ranks 
began to break into small groups ; at last, they dropped their 
arms, and fairly fled, bearing the Tzin away in the mighty 
press for life. At their backs rode the vengeful horsemen, and 
behind the horsemen, over the dead and shrieking wretches, 
moved Serrano and Mesa. 

And to the very gates of the palace the fight continued. 
A ship in its passage displaces a body of water ; behind, 
however, follows an equal reflux : so with the Christians, 
except that the masses who closed in upon their rear out- 
numbered those they put to rout in front. Their rapid 
movement had the appearance of flight ; on the other hand, 
that of the infidels had the appearance of pursuit. The 
sortie was not again repeated. 

if. * * 

Seven days the assault went on, — a week of fighting, in- 
termitted only at night, under cover of which the Aztecs 
carried off their dead and wounded, — the former to the lake, 
the latter to the hospitals. Among the Christians some there 
were who had seen grand wars ; some had even served under 
19 BB 


434 


THE FAIR GOD. 


the Great Captain : but, as they freely averred, never had 
they seen such courage, devotion, and endurance, such in- 
difference to wounds and death, as here. At times, the 
struggle was hand to hand ; then, standing upon their point 
of honor, the infidels perished by scores in vain attempts to 
take alive whom they might easily have slain ; and this it 
was, — this fatal point of honor, — more than superiority in 
any respect, that made great battles so bloodless to the Span- 
iards. Still, nearly all of the latter were wounded, a few 
disabled, and seven killed outright. Upon the Tlascalans 
the losses chiefly fell ; hundreds of them were killed ; hun- 
dreds more lay wounded in the chambers of the palace. 

The evening of the seventh day, the ’tzin, standing on the 
western verge of the teocallis, from which he had constantly 
directed the assault, saw coming the results which could 
alone console him for the awful sacrifice of his countrymen. 
The yells of the Tlascalans were not as defiant as formerly ; 
the men of iron, the Christians, were seen to sink wearily 
down at their posts, and sleep, despite the tumult of the 
battle ; the guns were more slowly and carefully served ; and 
whereas, before Cortes departure there had been three meals 
a day, now there were but two : the supply of provisions 
was failing. The ancient house, where constructed of wood, 
showed signs of demolition ; fuel was becoming scant. 
Where the garrison obtained its supply of water was a mar- 
vel. He had not then heard of Avhat Father Bartolom4 after- 
wards celebrated as a miracle of Christ, — the accidental find- 
ing of a spring in the middle of the garden. 

Then the assault was discontinued, and a blockade estab- 
lished. Another week, during which nothing entered the 
gates of the palace to sustain man or beast. Then there was 
but one meal a day, and the sentinels on the walls began to 
show the effect. 

One day the main gate opened, and a woman and a man 


THE PUBLIC OPINION PROCLAIMS ITSELF. — BATTLE. 435 


came out. The ’tzin descended from his perch to meet them. 
At the foot of the steps they knelt to him, — the princess 
Tula and the prince lo’. 

“ See, 0 Tzin,” said the princess, “ see the king’s signet. 
We bring you a message from him. He has not wherewith 
to supply his table. Yesterday he was hungry. He bids 
you re-open the market, and send of the tributes of the prov- 
inces without stint, — all that is his kingly right.” 

“ And if I fail % ” asked Guatamozin. 

“ He said not what, for no one has ever failed his order.” 
And the ’tzin looked at lo’. 

What shall I do, 0 son of the king *1 ” 

In all the fighting, lo’ had stayed in the palace with his 
father. Through the long days he had heard the voices of 
the battle calling to him. Many times he walked to the 
merlons of the azoteas, and saw the ’tzin on the temple, 
or listened to his familiar cry in the street. And where, 
— so ran his thought the while, — where is Hualpa 'I Hap- 
py fellow ! What glory he must have won, — true war- 
rior-glory to flourish in song forever ! A heroic jealousy 
would creep upon him, and he would go back miserable to 
his chamber. 

One day more, 0 ’tzin, and all there is in the palace — 
king and stranger alike — is yours,” lo’ made answer. 
“ More I need not say.” 

“ Then you go not back ? ” 

“ Ho,” said Tula. 

“ Ho,” said lo’. “ I came out to flght. Anahuac is our 
mother. Let us save her, 0 ’tzin ! ” 

And the ’tzin looked to the sun ; his eyes withstood its 
piercing splendors awhile, then he said, calmly, — 

“ Go with the princess Tula where she chooses, lo’ ; 
then come back. The gods shall have one day more, though 
it be my last. Farewell.” 


436 


THE FAIR GOD. 


They arose and went away. He returned to the azoteas. 

Next day there was not one meal in the palace. Starva- 
tion had come. And now the final battle, or surrender ! 
Morning passed ; noon came ; later, the sun began to go 
down the sky. In the streets stood the thousands, — on all 
the housetops, on the temple, they stood, — waiting and 
looking, now at the leaguered house, now at the ’tzin seated 
at the verge of the teocallis, also waiting. 

Suddenly a procession appeared on the central turret of 
the palace, and in its midst, Montezuma. 

“ The king ! the king ! ” burst from every throat ; then 
upon the multitude fell a silence, which could not have been 
deeper if the earth had opened and swallowed the city. 

The four heralds waved their silver wands ; the white car- 
pet was spread, and the canopy brought and set close by the 
eastern battlement of the turret; then the king came and 
stood in the shade before the people. At sight of him 
and his familiar royalty the old love came back to them, 
and they feU upon their knees. He spoke, asserting his 
privileges ; he bade them home, and the army to its quarters. 
He promised that in a short time the strangers, whose guest 
he was, would leave the country ; they were already prepar- 
ing to depart, he said. How wicked the revolt would then 
be ! How guilty the chiefs who had taken arms against his 
order ! He spoke as one not doubtful of his position, but 
as king and priest, and was successful. Stunned, confused, 
uncertain as to duty, nigh broken-hearted, the fighting 
people and disciplined companies arose, and, like a con- 
quered mob, turned to go away. 

Down from his perch rushed the Tzin. He put himself 
in the midst of the retiring warriors. He appealed to them 
in vain. The chiefs gathered around him, and knelt, and 
kissed his hands, and bathed his feet with their tears ; they 
acknowledged his heroism, — they would die with him • 


THE PUBLIC OPINION PROCLAIMS ITSELF.— BATTLE. 437 


but while the king lived, under the gods, he was master, 
and to disobey him was sacrilege. 

Then the ’tzin saw, as if it were a god’s decree, that Ana- 
huac and Montezuma could not both live. One or the 
OTHER MUST DIE ! And never so wise as in his patience, he 
submitted, and told them, — 

“ I will send food to the palace, and cease the war now, 
and until we have the voice of HuitziF to determine what 
we shall do. Go, collect the companies, and put them in their 
quarters. This night we will to Tlalac ; together, from his 
sacred lips, we will hear our fate, and our country’s. Go 
now. At midnight come to the teocallis'^ 

At midnight the sanctuary of Huitzil’ was crowded ; so 
was all the azoteas. Till the breaking of dawn the sacrifices 
continued. At last, the teotuctl% with a loud cry, ran and 
laid a heart in the fire before the idol ; then turning to the 
spectators, he said, in a loud voice, — 

“ Let the war go on ! So saith the mighty Huitzil’ ! Woe 
to him who refuses to hear ! ” 

And the heart that attested the wiU was the heart of a 
Spaniard. 


BOOK SEVENTH 


CHAPTER I. 

THE HEART CAN BE WISER THAN THE HEAD. 

I WILL now ask the reader to make a note of the passage 
of a fortnight. By so doing he will find himself close 
upon the 24th of June, — another memorable day in the 
drama of the conquest. 

’Tzin Guatamo, as is already known, had many times 
proven himself a warrior after the manner of his country, 
and, in consequence, had long been the idol of the army ; 
now he gave token of a ruling faculty which brought the 
whole people to his feet ; so that in Tenochtitlan, for the 
first time in her history, were seen a sceptre unknown to the 
law and a royalty not the king’s. 

He ruled in the valley everywhere, except in the palace 
of Axaya’ ; and around that he built works, and set guards, 
and so contrived that nothing passed in or out without his 
permission. His policy was to wait patiently, and in the 
mean time organize the nation for war ; and the nation obeyed 
him, seeing that in obedience there was life ; such, moreover, 
was the will of Huitzil’. 

As may be thought, the Christians thus pent up fared 
illy ; in fact, they would have suffered before the fortnight 
was gone but for the king, who stinted himself and his 
household in order to divide with his keepers the supplies 
sent in for his use. 

In the estimation of the people of the empire, it was 


THE HEART CAN BE WISER THAN THE HEAD. 439 


great glory to have shut so many teules in a palace, and held 
them there ; but the success did not deceive the ’tzin : in his 
view, that achievement was not the victory, but only the 
beginning of the war ; every hour he had news of Malinche, 
the real antagonist, who had the mind, the will, and the hand 
of a warrior, and was coming with another army, more 
numerous, if not braver, than the first one. In pure, strong 
love there is an element akin to the power of prophecy, — 
something that gives the spirit eyes to see what is to hap- 
pen. Such an inspiration quickened the ’tzin, and told him 
Anahuac was not saved, though she should be : if not, the 
conquerors should take an empty prize j he would leave them 
nothing, — so he swore, — neither gods, gold, slaves, city, nor 
people. He set about the great idea by inviting the Hew 
World — I speak as a Spaniard — to take part in the struggle. 
And he was answered. To the beloved city, turned into a 
rendezvous for the purpose, flocked the fighting vassals of the 
great caciques, the men of the cities, and their dependencies, 
the calpulli, or tribes of the loyal provinces, and, mixed with 
them, wild-eyed bands from the Unknown, the wildernesses, 
— in all, a multitude such as had never been seen in the val- 
ley. At the altars he had but one prayer, “ Time, time, O 
gods of my fathers ! Give me time ! ” He knew the differ- 
ence between a man and a soldier, and that, likewise, be- 
tween a multitude and an army. As he used the word, time 
meant organization and discipline. He not only prayed, he 
worked ; and into his work, as into his prayers, he poured 
all his soul. 

The organization was simple : first, a company of three or 
four hundred men ; next an army of thirty or forty com- 
panies, — a system which allowed the preservation of the 
identity of tribes and cities. The companies of Cholula, for 
example, were separate from those of Tezcuco ; while the 
Acolmanes marched and fought side by side with the Coato- 


440 


THE FAIR GOD. 


pecs, but under their own chiefs and flags. The system also 
gave him a number of armies, and he divided them, — one to 
raise supplies, another to bring the supplies to the depots, 
a third to prepare material of war ; the fourth was the ac- 
tive or fighting division ; and each was subject to take the 
place of the other. To the labor of so many hands, sys- 
tematized and industriously exerted, though for a fortnight, 
almost everything is possible. One strong wOl, absolutely 
operative over thousands, is nearer omnipotency than any- 
thing else human. 

The climate of the valley, milder and more equable than 
that of ifaples, permits the bivouac in all seasons. The 
sierra west of the capital, and bending around it like a half- 
drawn bow, is marked on its interior, or city side by verdant 
and watered vales; these were seized; and the bordering 
cliffs, which theretofore had shaded the toiling husbandman, 
or been themselves the scenes of the hunter’s daring, now 
hid the hosts of New World’s men, in the bivouac, biding 
the day of battle. 

War, good reader, never touches anything and leaves it as 
it was. And the daughter of the lake, fair Tenochtitlan, 
was no exception to the law. The young master, having re- 
duced the question of strategy to the formula, — a street or 
a plain, chose the street, and thereby dedicated the city to 
all of ruin or horror the destroyer could bring. Not long, 
therefore, until its presence could have been detected by the 
idlest glance : the streets were given up to the warriors ; the 
palaces were deserted by families ; houses conveniently 
situated for the use were turned into forts ; the shrubbery 
garnishing roofs that dominated the main streets concealed 
heaps of stones made ready for the hand ; the bridges were 
taken up, or put in condition to be raised ; the canoes on the 
lakes were multiplied, and converted to the public service ; 
the great markets were suspended ; even the sacred temples 


THE HEART CAN BE WISER THAN THE HEAD. 441 


were changed into vast arsenals. When the ’tzin, going 
hither and thither, never idle, observed the change, he would 
sigh, but say to himself, “ ’T is well. If we win, we can 
restore ; if we lose, — if we lose, — then, to the strangers, 
waste, to the waters, welcome ! ” 

And up and down, from city to bivouac and back again, 
passed the minstrels, singing of war, and the pabas, pro- 
claiming the oracles and divine promises ; and the services 
in the temples were unintermitted ; those in the teocallis 
were especially grand ; the smoke from its turrets overhung 
the city, and at night the fire of Huitzil’, a new star redden- 
ing in the sky, was seen from the remotest hamlet in the 
valley. The ’tzin had faith in moral effects, and he studied 
them, and was successful. The army soon came to have, 
like himself, but one prayer, — ‘‘ Set us before the strangers \ 
let us fight ! ” 

And the time they prayed for was come. 

The night of the 23d of June was pleasant as night can be 
in that region of pleasant nights. The sky was clear and 
stany. The breeze abroad brought coolness to outliers on 
the housetops, without threshing the lake to the disturbance 
of its voyageurs. 

Up in the northeastern part of the little sea lay a chi- 
nampa at anchor. Over its landing, at the very edge of the 
water, burned a flambeau of resinous pine. Two canoes, 
richly decorated, swung at the mooring. The path from the 
landing to the pavilion was carpeted, and lighted by lamps 
pendent in the adjoining shrubbery. In the canoes the 
slaves lay at rest, talking idly, and in low voices crooning 
Indian songs. Close by the landing, on a bench, over which 
swayed the leaves of an immense banana-tree, rested a 
couple of warriors, silent, and nodding, as it were, to the 
nodding leaves. From the rising to the setting of the day s 
19 * 


442 


THE FAIR GOD. 


sun, many a weary league, from the city to the vales of the 
Sierra in which bivouacked the hope of Anahuac, had they 
travelled, — Hualpa and lo’. One familiar with the streets 
in these later days, at sight of them would have said, 
‘‘ Eeware ! the ’tzin is hereaway.” The three were almost 
as one, — so had their friendship grown. The pavilion, a 
circular canopy, spread like a Bedouin’s tent, was brightly 
lighted ; and there, in fact, was the ’tzin, with Tula and 
Yeteve, the priestess. 

Once before, I believe, I described this pavilion ; and now 
I know the imagination of the reader will give the floating 
garden richer colors than lie within compass of my pen ; 
will surround it with light, and with air delicious with the 
freshness of the lake and the exhalations of the flowers ; 
will hover about the guardian palm and willow trees, the 
latter with boughs lithe and swinging, and leaves long and 
fine as a woman’s locks ; will linger about the retreat, I 
say, and, in thought of its fitness for meeting of lovers, ad- 
mit the poetry and respect the passion of the noble Aztec. 

Within, the furniture was as formerly ; there were yet the 
carven stools, the table with its bowl-like top, now a mass 
of flowem, a couch draped with brilliant plumage, the floor 
covered with matting of woven grasses, the hammock, and 
the bird-cage, — all as when we first saw them. Nenetzin 
was absent, and alas ! might never come again. 

And if we enter now, we shall find the ’tzin standing a 
little apart from Tula, who is in the hammock, with Yeteve 
by her side. On a stool at his feet is a waiter of ebony, 
with spoons of tortoise-shell, and some xicaras, or cups, used 
for chocolate. 

Their faces are grave and earnest. 

“ And Malinche ^ ” asked Tula, as if pursuing a question. 

“ The gods have given me time ; I am ready for him,” 
he replied. 


THE HEART CAN BE WISER THAN THE HEAD. 443 


“ When will he come ? ” 

“Yesterday, about noon, he set out from Tezcuco, by way 
of the shore of the lake ; to-night he lodges in Iztapalapan ; 
to-morrow, marching by the old causeway, he will re-enter 
the city.” 

“ Poor, poor country ! ” she said, after a long silence. 

The words touched him, and he replied, in a low voice, 
“ You have a good heart, O Tula, — a good heart and true. 
Your words were what I repeat every hour in the day. You 
were seeing what I see all the time — ” 

“ The battle ! ” she said, shuddering. 

“Yes. I wish it could be avoided; its conditions are 
such that against the advantage of arms I can only oppose 
the advantage of numbers ; so that the dearest of all things 
will be the cheapest. I must take no account of lives. I 
have seen the streets run with blood already, and now, — 
Enough ! we must do what the gods decree. Yet the 
slaughter shall not be, as heretofore, on one side alone.” 

She looked at him inquiringly. 

“You know the custom of our people to take prisoners 
rather than kill in battle. As against the Tlascalans and 
tribes, that was well enough ; but new conditions require 
new laws, and my order now is. Save nothing but the 
arms and armor of the strangers. Life for life as against 
Malinche ! And I could conquer him, but — ” 

He stopped, and their glances met, — his full of fire, hers 
sad and thoughtful. 

“ Ah, Tula ! your woman’s soul prompts you already of 
whom I would speak, — the king.” 

“ Spare me,” she said, covering her face with her hands. 
“ I am his child ; I love him yet.” 

“ So I know,” he replied ; “ and I would not have you do 
else. The love is proof of fitness to be loved. Nature cannot 
be silenced. He is not as near to me as to you ; yet I feel tho 


444 


THE FAIR GOD. 


impulse that moves you, though in a less degree. In memory, 
he is a part of my youth. For that matter, who does not love 
him? He has charmed the strangers; even the guards at 
his chamber-door have been known to weep at sight of his 
sorrow. And the heroes who so lately died before his prison- 
gates, did not they love him 1 And those who will die to- 
morrow and the next day, what else may be said of them 1 
In arms here, see the children of the valley. What seek 
they 1 In their eyes, he is Anahuac. And yet — ” 

He paused again ; her hands had fallen ; her cheeks glis- 
tened with tears. 

“If I may not speak plainly now, I may not ever. 
Strengthen yourself to hear me, and hear me pitifully. To 
begin, you know that I have been using the king’s power 
without his permission, — that, I say, you know, and have 
forgiven, because the usurpation was not of choice but neces- 
sity, and to save the empire ; but you will hear now, for the 
first time probably, that I could have been king in fact.” 

Her gaze became intent, and she listened breathlessly. 

“ Three times,” he continued, “ three times have the ca- 
ciques, for themselves and the army, offered me the crown. 
The last time, they were accompanied by the electors,* and 
deputations from all the great cities.” 

“ And you refused,” she said, confidently. 

“ Yes. I will not deny the offer was tempting, — that for 
the truth. I thought of it often ; and at such times came 
revenge, and told me I had been wronged, and ambition, 
whispering of glory, and, with ready subtlety, making ac- 
ceptance appear a duty. But, Tula, you prevailed ; your love 
was dearer to me than the crown. For your sake, I refused 
the overture. You never said so, — there was no need of 
the saying, — yet I knew you could never be queen while 
your father lived.” 

* The monarchy was elective. — Prescott, Conq. e/Mexuo, Vol. I., p. 24 


THE HEART CAN BE WISER THAN THE HEAD. 445 


Not often has a woman heard such a story of love, or 
been given such proofs of devotion ; her face mantled, and 
she dropped her gaze, saying, — 

“ Better to be so loved than to he queen. If not here, 0 
*tzin, look for reward in the Sun. Surely, the gods take 
note of such things ! ” 

“ Y our approval is my full reward,” he replied. “ But hear 
me further. What I have said was easy to say ; that which 
I go to now is hard, and requires all my will ; for the utter- 
ance may forfeit not merely the blessing just given me, but 
your love, — more precious, as I have shown, than the crown. 
You were in the palace the day the king appeared and 
bade the people home. The strangers were in my hand at 
the time. 0, a glad time, — so long had we toiled, so many 
had died ! Then he came, and snatched away our triumph. 
I have not forgotten, I never can forget the disappoint- 
ment. In all the labor of the preparation since, I have 
seen the scene, sometimes as a threat, sometimes as a warning, 
always a recurring dream whose dreaming leaves me less 
resolved in the course I am running. Continually I find 
myself saying to myself, ‘ The work is aU in vain ; what 
has been will be again ; while he lives, you cannot win.* 
0 Tula, such influence was bad enough of itself. Hear now 
how the gods came in to direct me. Last night I was at 
the altar of Huitzil’, praying, when the teotuctli appeared, 
and said, *’Tzin Guatamo, pray you for your country!’ ‘For 
country and king,’ I answered. He laid his hand upon my 
shoulder, ‘ If you seek the will of the god with intent to do 
what he imposes, hear then : The king is the shield of the 
strangers ; they are safe while he lives ; and if he lives, Ana- 
• huac dies. Let him who leads choose between them. So the 
god says. Consider ! ’ He was gone before I could answer. 
Since that I have been like one moving in a cloud, seeing 
nothing clearly, and the duty least of all. When I should be 


446 


THE FAIR GOD. 


strongest, I am weakest. My spirit faints under the load. If 
the king lives, the empire dies : if it is to die, why the bat- 
tle, and its sacrifices ? This night have I in which to choose ; 
to-morrow, Malinche and action ! Help me, 0 Tula, help me 
to do right ! Love of country, of king, and of me, — you 
have them all. Speak.” 

And she answered him, — 

“ I may not doubt that you love me ; you have told me 
so many times, but never as to-night. I thank you, 0 Tzin ! 
Your duties are heavy. I do not wonder that you bend under 
them. I might say they are yours by gift of the gods, and 
not to be divided with another, not even with me ; but I will 
give you love for love, and, as I hope to share your fortunes, 
I will share your kials. I am a woman, without judgment 
by which to answer you ; from my heart I will answer.” 

“ From your heart be it, 0 Tula.” 

“ Has the king heard the things of which you have 
spoken % ” 

“ I cannot say.” 

“ Does he know you were offered the crown ? ” 

‘‘ No ; the offer was treason.” 

“ Ah, poor king, proud father ! The love of the people, 
that of which you were proudest, is lost. What wretched- 
ness awaits you ! ” 

She bowed her head, and there was a silence broken only 
by her sobs. The grief spent itself; then she said, ear- 
nestly, — 

“ I know him. He, too, is a lover of Anahuac. More 
than once he has exposed himself to death for her. Such 
loves age not, nor do they die, except with the hearts they 
animate. There was a time — but now — No matter, I 
will try. ‘ Let him who leads choose • : was not that the 
decree, good Tzin % ” 

Yes,” he replied. 


THE HEART CAN BE WISER THAN THE HEAD. 447 


“ Must the choice he made to-night 1 ” 

“ I may delay until to-morrow.” 

“ To-morrow ; what time 1 ” 

“ Malinche will pass the causeway in the cool of the 
morning ; by noon he will have joined his people in the old 
palace ; the decision must then be made.” 

“ Can you set me down at the gate before he passes in'? ” 

The ’tzin started. “ Of the old palace '? ” he asked. 

“ J- wish to see the king.” 

“ For what*?” 

“ To tell him the things you have told me*to-night.” 

“ All 1 ” 

“ Yes.” 

His face clouded with dissatisfaction. 

“ Yes,” she continued, calmly ; “ that, as becomes a king, 
he may choose which shall live, — himself or Anahuac.” 

So she answered the ^tzin’s appeal, and the answer was 
from her heart ; and, seeing of what heroism she dreamed, 
his dark eyes glowed with admiration. Yet his reply was 
full of hopelessness. 

“ I give you honor, Tula, — I give you honor for the 
thought ; but forgive me if I think you beguiled by your 
love. There was a time when he was capable of what you 
have imagined. Alas ! he is changed ; he will never choose, 
— never ! ” 

She looked at him reproachfully, and said, with a sad 
smile, “ Such changes are not always of years. Who is he 
that to-night, only to-night, driven by a faltering of the 
will, which in the king, my father, is called weakness, 
brought himself prayerfully to a woman’s feet, and begged 
her to divide with him a burden imposed upon his con- 
science by a decree of the gods 1 Who is he, indeed f 
Study yourself, 0 ’tzin, and commiserate him, and bethink 
you, if he choose not, it will be yours to choose for him. 


448 


THE FAIR GOD. 


His duty will then hecpme yours, to bo donp without re- 
morse, and — ” 

She hesitated, and held out her hand, as if to say, “ And 
I can love you still.” 

He caught the meaning of the action, and went to her, 
and kissed her forehead tenderly, and said, — ^ 

“ I see now that the heart can be wiser than the head. 
Have your way. I will set you down at the gate, and of 
war there shall be neither sign nor sound until you re- 
turn.” 

“ Until I return ! May be I cannot. Malinche may hold 
me prisoner.” 

From love to war, — the step was short. 

“ True,” he said. The armies will await my signal of 
attack, and they must not wait upon uncertainties.” 

He arose and paced the floor, and when he paused he 
said, firmly, ^ 

“ I wdll set you down at the gate in the early morning, 
that you may see your father before Malinche sees him. 
And when you speak to him, ask not if I may make the 
war ; on that I am resolved ; but tell him what no 
other can, — that I look forward to the time when Ma- 
linche, like the Tonatiah, will bring him from his cham- 
ber, and show him to the pe.ople, to distract them again. 
And when you have told him that, speak of what the gods 
have laid upon me, and then say that I say, ‘ Comes he so, 
whether of choice or by force, the dread duty shall be done. 
The gods helping me, I will strike for Anahuac.’ And if he 
ask what I would have him do, answer, A king’s duty to 
his people, — die that they may live ! ” 

Tula heard him to the end, and buried her face in her 
hands, and there was a long silence. 

Poor king ! poor father ! ” she said at last. For mo to 
ask him to die ! A heavy, heavy burden, 0 ’tzin ! ” 


THE CONQUEROR ON THE CAUSEWAY AGAIN. 449 


“ The gods help you ! ” he replied. 

“If Malinche hold me prisoner, how will the answer avail 
you 1 ” 

“ Have you not there two scarfs, — the one green, the other 
white? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Take them with you, and from the roof, if your father 
resolve not, show the green one. Alas, then, for me ! If, 
in its stead, you wave the white one, I shall know that he 
comes, if so he does, by force, and that ” — his voice trem- 
bled — “ it is his will Anahuac should live'* 

She listened wistfully, and replied, “ I understand : 
Anahuac saved means Montezuma lost. But doubt him 
not, doubt him not ; he will remember his glory’s day, 
and die as he has lived.” 

* * * ♦ * 

An hour later, and the canoe of the 'tzin passed into one 
of the canals of the city. The parting on the chinampa may 
be imagined. Love will have its way even in war. 

CHAPTEE II. 

THE CONQUEROR ON THE CAUSEWAY AGAIN. 

A S predicted by the ’tzin, the Spaniards set out early 
next morning — the morning of the 24th of June 
— by the causeway from Iztapalapan, already notable in this 
story. 

At their head rode the Senor Hernan, silent, thoughtful, 
and not well pleased ; pondering, doubtless, the misconduct 
of the adelantado in the old palace to which he was march- 
ing, and the rueful condition it might impose upon the expe- 
dition. 


CO 


450 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The cavaliers next in the order of march, which was that 
of battle, rode and talked as men are wont when drawing 
nigh the end of a long and toilsome task. This the leader 
at length interrupted, — 

“ Senores, come near. Yonder ye may see the gate of 
Xoloc,” he continued, when they were up. “ If the heathen 
captains think to obstruct our entry, they would do well, 
now that our ships lie sunken in the lake, to give us battle 
there. Ride we forward to explore what preparations, if any, 
they have made.” 

So they rode, at quickened pace, arms rattling, spurs jin- 
gling, and found the gate deserted. 

“ Viva companeros I ” cried Cortes, riding through the 
shadow of the battlements. “ Give the scabbards their 
swords again. There will be no battle ; the way to the pal- 
ace is open.” And, waiting till the column was at their heels, 
he turned to the trumpeters, and shouted, cheerily, “ Ola, ye 
lazy knaves ! Since the march began, ye have not been 
heard from. Out now, and blow ! Blow as if ye were each 
a Roland, with Roland’s horn. Blow merrily a triumphal 
march, that our brethren in the leaguer ahead may know 
deliverance at hand.” 

The feeling of the chief spread rapidly ; first, to the' 
cavaliers ; then to the ranks, where soon there were shout- 
ing and singing ; and simultaneous with the trumpetry, over 
the still waters sped the minstrelsy of the Tlascalans. Ere 
long they had the answer of the garrison; every gun in 
the palace thundered Avelcome. 

Cortes settled in his saddle smiling : he was easy in mind ; 
the junction with Alvarado was assured ; the city and the 
king were his, and he could now hold them ; nevertheless, 
back of his smile there was much thought. True, his ene- 
mies in Spain would halloo spitefully over the doughty 
deed he had just done down in Cempoalla. No matter. 


THE CONQUEROR ON THE CAUSEWAY AGAIN. 451 


The Court and the Council had pockets, and he could fill them 
with gold, — gold by the caravel, if necessary ; and for the 
pacification of his most Catholic master, the Emperor, had 
he not the New World ? And over the schedule of guerdons 
sure to follow such a gift to such a master he lingered conn 
placently, as well he might. Patronage, and titles, and high 
employments, and lordly estates danced before his eyes, as 
danced the sun’s glozing upon the crinkling water. 

One thought, however, — only one, — brought him trou- 
ble. The soldiers of Narvaez were new men, ill-disciplined, 
footsore, grumbling, discontented, disappointed. He remem- 
bered the roseate pictures by which they had been won 
from their leader before the battle was joined. ‘The 
Empire was already in possession ; there would be no 
fighting ; the march would be a promenade through grand 
landscapes, and by towns and cities, whose inhabitants 
would meet them in processions, loaded with fruits and 
flowers, tributes of love and fear,’ — so he had told them 
through his spokesmen, Olmedo, the priest, and Duero, the 
secretary. Nor failed he now to recall the chief inducements 
in the argument, — the charms of the heathen capital, and the 
easy life there waiting, — a life whose sole vexation would 
be apportionment of the lands conquered and the gold gath- 
ered. And the wonderful city, — here it was, placid as 
ever ; and neither the valley, nor the lake, nor the summer- 
ing climatej nor the abundance of which he had spoken, 
failed his description ; nothing was wanting but the people, 
THE PEOPLE ! Where were they ? He looked at the prize 
ahead ; gyres of smoke, slowly rising and purpling as they 
rose, were all the proofs of life within its walls. He swept 
the little sea with angry eyes ; in the distance a canoe, sta- 
tionary, and with a solitary occupant, and he a spy ! And 
this was the grand reception promised the retainers of 
Narvaez ! He struck his mailed thigh with his mailed hand 


452 


THE FAIR GOP. 


fiercely, and, turning in his saddle, looked back. The col- 
umn was moving forward compactly, the new men distin- 
guishable by the freshness of their apparel and equipments. 
“ Bien I ” he said, with a grim smile and cunning solacQ, 
“ Bien ! they will fight for life, if not for majesty and me.” 

Close by the wall Father Bartolom^ overtook him, and, 
after giving rein to his mule, and readjusting his hood, said, 
gravely, “ If the tinkle of my servant’s bell disturb not thy 
musing, Senor, — I have been through the files, and bring 
thee wot of the new men.” 

“ Welcome, father,” said Cortes, laughing. “ I am not an 
evil spirit to fly the exorcisement of thy bell, not I ; and so 
I bid thee welcome. But as for whereof thou comest to 
tell, no more, I pray. I know of what the varlets speak. 
And as I am a Christian, I blame them not. We promised 
them much, and — this is all : fair sky, fair land, strange 
city, — and all without people I Eueful enough, I grant ; 
but, as matter more serious, what say the veterans 1 Came 
they within thy soundings ? ” 

“ Thou mayest trust them, Senor. Their tongues go with 
their swords. They return to the day pf our first entry here, 
and with excusable enlargement teU what they saw then in 
contrast with the present.” 

“ And whom blame they fox the failure now % 

‘‘The captain Alvarado.” 

Cortes’ brows dropped, and he became thoughtful again, 
and in such temper rode into the city. 

Within the walls, everywhere the visitors looked, were 
signs of hfe, but nowhere a living thing ; neither on the 
street, nor in the houses, nor on the housetops, — not 
even a bird in the sky. A stillness possessed the place, 
peculiar in that it seemed to assert a presence, and palpably 
lurk in the shade, lie on the doorsteps, issue from the win- 
dows, ftnd pervade the air ; giving notice, so that not a man, 


THE CONQUEROR ON THE CAUSEWAY AGAIN. 453 


new or veteran, but was conscious that, in some way, he was 
menaced with danger. There is nothing so appalling as the 
unaccountable absence of life in places habitually populous ; 
nothing so desolate as a deserted city. 

“ Por Dins ! ” said Olmedo, toying with the beads at his 
side, “ I had rather the former reception than the present. 
Pleasanter the sullen multitude than the silence without the 
multitude.” 

Cortes made him no answer, but rode on abstractedly, 
until stopped by his advance-guard. 

“At rest!” he said, angrily. “Had ye the signal? I 
heard it not.” 

“ Hor did we, Sehor,” replied the officer in charge. “ But, 
craving thy pardon, approach, and see what the infidels have 
done here.” 

Cortes drew near, and found himself on the brink of the 
first canal. He swore a great oath ; the bridge was dis- 
mantled. On the hither side, however, lay the timbers, 
frame and floor. The tamanes detailed from the guns re- 
placed them. 

“ Bartolom^, good father,” said Cortes, confidentially, 
when the march was resumed, “ thou hast a commendable 
habit of holding what thou hearest, and therefore I shame 
not to confess that I, too, prefer the first reception. The 
absence of the heathen and the condition of yon bridge 
are parts of one plan, and signs certain of battle now ready 
to be delivered.” 

“If it be God’s will, amen ! ” replied the priest, calmly. 
“We are stronger than when we went out.” 

“ So is the enemy, for he hath organized his people. The 
hordes that stared at us so stupidly when we first came — 
be the curse of the saints upon them 1 — are now fighting 
men.” 

Olmedo searched his face, and said, coldly, “ To doubt 
is to dread the result.” 


454 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ Nay, by my conscience ! I neither doubt nor dread. Yet 
I hold it not imseenily to confess that I had rather meet the 
brunt on the firm land, with room for what the occasion 
offers. I like not yon canal, with its broken bridge, too 
wide for horse, too deep for weighted man ; it putteth us to 
disadvantage, and hath a hateful reminder of the brigantines, 
which, as thou mayest remember, we left at anchor, mis- 
tresses of the lake ; in our absence they have been lost, — a 
most measureless folly, father ! But let it pass, let it pass 1 
The Mother — blessed be her name ! — hath not forsaken us. 
Montezuma is ours, and — 

“ He is victory,” said Olmedo, zealously. 

“ He is the New World ! ” answered Cortes. 

And so it chanced that the poor king was centre of 
thought for both the ’tzin and his enemy, — the dread of one 
and the hope of the other. 


CHAPTEK III, 


LA VIRUELA. 



LONG interval behind the rear-guard — indeed, the 


very last of the army, and quite two hours behind 
— came four Indian slaves, bringing a man stretched upon 


a litter. 


And the litter was open, and the sun beat cruelly on the 
man’s face ; but plaint he made not, nor motion, except that 
his head rolled now right, now left, responsive to the ca- 
denced steps of his hearers. 

Was he sick or wounded 1 

Nathless, into the city they carried him. 

And in front of the new palace of the king, they stopped, 


MONTEZUMA A PROPHET. — HIS PROPHECY. 455 


less wearied than overcome by curiosity. And as they stared 
at the great house, imagining vaguely the splendor within, 
a groan startled them. They looked at their charge; he 
was dead ! Then they looked at each other, and fled. 

And in less than twice seven days they too died, and died 
horribly ; and in .dying recognized their disease as that of 
the stranger they had abandoned before the palace, — the 
small-pox, or, in the language which hath a matchless trick 
of melting everything, even the most ghastly, into music, 
la viruela of the Spaniard. 

The sick man on the litter was a negro, — first of his race 
on the new continent ! 

And most singular, in dying, he gave his masters another 
servant stronger than himself, and deadlier to the infidels 
than swords of steel, — a servant that found way every- 
where in the crowded city, and rested not. And every- 
where its breath, like its touch, was mortal ; insomuch that 
a score and ten died of it where one fell in battle. 

Of the myriads who thus perished, one was a king. 

CHAPTER lY. 

MONTEZUMA A PROPHET. HIS PROPHECY. 

S CARCE five weeks before, Cortes sallied from the palace 
with seventy soldiers, ragged, yet curiously bedight 
with gold and silver ; now he returned full-handed, at his 
back thirteen hundred infantry, a hundred horse, additional 
guns and Tlascalaiis. Surely, he could hold what he h^^ \ 
gained. 

The garrison stood in the court-yard to receive him. 
Trumpet replied to trumpet, and the reverberation of drums 


456 


THE FAIR GOD. 


shook the ancient house. When all were assigned to quar- 
ters, the ranks were broken, and the veterans — those who had 
remained, and those who had followed their chief — rushed 
clamorously into each other’s arms. Comradeship, with its 
strange love, born of toil and danger, and nursed by red- 
handed battle, asserted itself. ‘ The men of Narvaez looked 
on indifferently, or clomb the palace, and from the roof sur- 
yeyed the vicinage, especially the great temple, apparently 
as forsaken as the city. 

And in the court-yard Cortes met Alvarado, saluting him 
coldly. The latter excused his conduct as best he could ; 
but the palliations were unsatisfactory. The general turned 
from him with bitter denunciations ; and as he did so, a 
procession aj)proached : four nobles, carrying silver wands; 
then a train in doubled files ; then Montezuma, in the royal 
regalia, splendid from head to foot. The shade of the 
canopy borne above him wrapped his person in purpled soft- 
ness, but did not hide that other shadow discernible in the 
slow, uncertain step, the bent form, the wistful eyes, — the 
shadow of the coming Fate. Such of his family as shared 
his captivity brought up the cortege. 

At the sight, Cortes waited ; his blood was hot, and his 
head filled with the fumes of victory ; from a great height, 
as it were, he looked upon the retinue, and its sorrowfid mas- 
ter ; and his eyes wandered fitfully from the Christians, worn 
by watching and hunger, to the sumptuousness of the infi- 
dels ; so that when the monarch drew nigh him, the temper 
of his heart was as the temper of his corselet. 

“ I salute you, 0 Malinche, and welcome your return,” 
said Montezuma, according to the interpretation of Marina. 

' The Spaniard heard him without a sign of recognition. 

‘‘The good Lady of your trust has had you in care; 
she has given you the victory. I congmtulate you, Ma- 
linche.” 


MONTEZUMA A PROPHET. — HIS PROPHECY. 457 


Still the Spaniard was obstinate. ^ 

The king hesitated, dropped his eyes under the cold stare, 
and was frozen into silence. Then Cortes turned upon his 
heel, and, without a word, sought his chamber. 

The insult was plain, and the witnesses, Christian and 
infidel, were shocked ; and while they stood surprised, Tula 
rushed up, and threw her arms around the victim’s neck, and 
laid her head upon his breast. The retinue closed around 
them, as if to hide the shame ; and thus the unhappy 
monarch went back to his quarters, — back to his captiv- 
ity, to his remorse, and the keener pangs of pride savagely 
lacerated. 

For a time he was like one dazed ; but, half waking, he 
wi’ung his hands, and said, feebly, ‘‘ It cannot be, it can- 
not be ! Maxtla, take the councillors and go to Malinche, 
and say that I wish to see him. Tell him the business is 
urgent, and will not wait. Bring me his answer, omitting 
nothing.” 

The young chief and the four nobles departed, and the 
king relapsed into his dazement, muttering, “ It cannot be, 
it cannot be ! ” 

The commissioners delivered the message. Olid, Leon, 
and others who were present begged Cortes to be consid- 
erate. 

“ FTo,” he replied ; “ the dog of a king would have be- 
trayed US to Narvaez; before his eyes we are allowed to 
hunger. Why are the markets closed % I have nothing to 
do with him.” 

And to the commissioners he said, “ Tell your master to 
open the markets, or we will for him. Begone ! ” 

And they went back and reported, omitting nothing, not 
even the insulting epithet. The king heard them silently ; 
as they proceeded, he gathered strength ; when they ceased, 
he w^ calm and resolved 
20 


458 


THE FAIR GOD. 


‘‘ Eeturn to Malinche,” he said, “ and tell him what T 
wished to say : that my people are ready to attack him, and 
that the only means I know to divert them from their j^ur- 
pose is to release the lord Cuitlahua, my brother, and send 
him to them to enforce my orders. There is now no other of 
authority upon whom I can depend to keep the peace, and 
open the markets ; he is the last hope. Go." 

The messengers departed ; and when they were gone the 
monarch said, “ Leave the chamber now, all but Tula.” 

At the last outgoing footstep she went near, and knelt 
before him ; knowing,, with the divination which is only of 
woman, that she was now to have reply to the ’tzin’s mes- 
sage, delivered by her in the early morning. Her tearful 
look he answered with a smile, saying tenderly, “ I do not 
know whether I gave you welcome. If I did not, I will 
amend the fault. Come near.” 

She arose, and, putting an arm over his shoulder, knelt 
closer by his side ; he kissed her forehead, and pressed her 
close to his breast. Nothing could exceed the gentleness 
of the caress, unless it was the accompanying look. She 
replied with tears, and such breaking sobs as are only per- 
mitted to passion and childhood. 

“ Now, if never before,” he continued, “ you are my best 
beloved, because your faith in me fell not away with that of 
all the world besides ; especially, 0 good heart ! especially 
because you have to-day. shown me an escape from my in- 
tolerable misery and misfortunes, — for which may the gods 
who have abandoned me bless you ! ” 

He stroked the dark locks under his hand lovingly. 

“Tears'? Let there be none for me. I am happy. 1 
have been unresolved, drifting with uncertain currents, doubt- 
ful, yet -hopeful, seeing nothing, and imagining everything; 
waiting, sometimes on men, sometimes on the gods, — and 
that so long, — ah, so long ! But now the weakness is past 


MONTEZUMA A PROPHET. — HIS PROPHECY. 459 


Rejoice with me, 0 Tula ! In this hour I have recovered do- 
minion over myself; with every faculty -restored, the very 
king whom erst you knew, I will make answer to the Tzin. 
Listen well. I give you my last decree, after which I shall 
regard myself as lost to the world. If I live, I shall never 
rule again. Somewhere in the temples I shall find a cell 
like that from which they took me to be king. The sweetness 
of the solitude I remember yet. There I will wait for death ; 
and my waiting shall be so seemly that his coming shall be 
as the coming of a restful sleep. Hear then, and these words 
give the ’tzin : Hot as king to subject, nor as priest to peni- 
tent, but as father to son, I send him my blessing. Of par- 
don I say nothing. All he has done for Anahuac, and all 
he hopes to do for her, I approve. Say to him, also, that 
in the last hour Malinche will come for me to go with him 
to the people, and that I will go. Then, I say, let the Tzin 
remember what the gods have laid upon him, and with his 
own hand do the duty, that it may be certainly done. A 
man’s last prayer belongs to the gods, his last look to those 
who love him. In dying there is no horror like lingering 
long amidst enemies.” 

His voice trembled, and he paused. She raised her eyes 
to his face, which was placid, but rapt, as if his spirit had 
been caught by a sudden vision. 

“ To the world,” he said, in a little while, “ I have bid 
farewell. I see its vanities go from me one by one ; last 
in the train, and most glittering, most loved. Power, — and 
in its hands is my heart. A shadow creeps upon me, darken- 
ing all without, but brightening all within ; and in the 
brightness, lo, my People and their Future ! ” 

He stopped again, then resumed : — 

“ The long, long cycles — two, — four, — eight — pass 
away, and I see the tribes newly risen, like the trodden 
grass, and in their midst a Priesthood and a Cross. An age 


460 


THE FAIR GOD. 


of battles more, and, lo ! the Cross but not the priests ; in 
their stead Freedom and God.” 

And with the last word, as if to indicate the Christian 
God, the report of a gun without broke the spell of the 
seer ; the two started, and looked at each other, .listening 
for what might follow ; but there was nothing more, and he 
went on quietly talking to her. 

“ I know the children of the Aztec, crushed now, will live, 
and more, — after ages of wrong suffered by them, they will 
rise up, and take their place— a place of splendor — amongst 
the deathless nations of the earth. What I saw was reve- 
lation. Cherish the words, 0 Tula ; repeat them often ; 
make them an utterance of the people, a sacred tradition ; 
let them go down with the generations, one of which will, at 
last, rightly interpret the meaning of the words Freedom 
and God, now dark to my understanding ; and then, not till 
then, will be the new birth and new career. And so shall my 
name become of the land a part, suggested by all things, — 
by the sun mildly tempering its winds; by the rivers sing- 
ing in its valleys ; by the stars seen from its mountain-tops ; 
by its cities, and their palaces and halls ; and so shall its red 
races of whatever blood learn to call me father, and in their 
glory, as well as misery, pray for and bless me.” 

In the progress of this speech his voice grew stronger, 
and insensibly his manner ennobled ; at the conclusion, his 
appearance was majestic. Tula regarded him with awe, and 
accejDted his utterances, not as the song habitual to the Aztec 
warrior at the approach of death, nor as the rhapsody of 
pride soothing itself ; she accepted them as prophecy, and as 
a holy trust, — a promise to be passed down through time, 
to a generation of her race, the first to understand truly the 
simple words, — Freedom and God. And they were silent 
a long time. 

At length there was a warning at the door ; the little 


MONTEZUxMA A PROPHET. — HIS PROPHECY. 461 


bells filled the room with music strangely inharmonious. 
The king looked that way, frowning. The intruder entered 
without nequen ; as he drew near the monarch’s seat, his 
steps became slower, and his head drooped upon his breast. 

“ Cuitlahua ! my brother ! ” said Montezuma, surprised. 

“ Brother and king ! ” answered the cacique, as he knelt 
and placed both palms upon the floor. 

“ You bring me a message. Arise and speak.” 

“ ]!^’o,” said Cuitlahua, rising. “ I have come to receive 
your signet and orders. I am free. The guard is at the 
door to pass me through the gate. Malinche would have me 
go and send the people home, and open the markets ; he said 
such were your orders. But from him I take nothing ex- 
cept liberty. But you, 0 king, what will you, — peace or 
warl” 

Tula looked anxiously at the monarch ; would the old 
vacillation return 1 He replied firmly and gravely, — 

“ I have given my last order as king. Tula will go with 
you from the palace, and deliver it to you.” 

He arose while speaking, and gave the cacique a ring ; then 
for a moment he regarded the two with suffused eyes, and 
said, “ I divide my love between you and my people. For 
their sake, I say, go hence quickly, lest Malinche change his 
mind. You, 0 my brother, and you, my child, take my 
blessing and that of the gods ! Farewell.” 

He embraced them both. To Tula he clung long and pas- 
sionately. More than his ambassadress to the ’tzin, she bore 
his prophecy to the generations of the future. His last kiss 
was dewy with her tears. With their faces to him, they 
moved to the door; as they passed out, each gave a last 
look, and caught his image then, — the image of a man 
breaking because he happened to be in God’s way. 


462 


THE FAIR GOD. 


CHAPTEE V. 

HOW TO YIELD A CROWN. 

A S the guard passed the old lord and the princess out 
of the gate opposite the teocallis, the latter looked up 
to the azoteas of the sacred pile, and saw the ’tzin standing- 
near the verge ; taking off the white scarf that covered her 
head, and fell from her shoulders, after passing once around 
her neck, she gave him the signal. He waved his hand in 
reply, and disappeared. 

The lord Cuitlahua, just released from imprisonment and 
ignorant of the situation, scarcely knowing whither to turn 
yet impatient to set his revenge in motion, accepted the 
suggestion of Tula, and accompanied her to the temple. The 
ascent was laborious, especially to him ; at the top, however, 
they were received by lo’ and Hualpa, and with every show 
of respect conducted to the ’tzin. He saluted them gravely, 
yet affectionately. Cuitlahua told him the circumstances of 
his release from imprisonment. 

“ So,” said the ’tzin, “ Malinche expects you to open the 
market, and forbid the war ; but the king, — what of 
himP’ 

“ To Tula he gave his will ; hear her.” 

And she repeated the message of her father. At the 
end, the calm of the ’tzin’s temper was much disturbed. 
At his instance she again and again recited the prophecy. 
The words “ Freedom and God ” were as dark to him as 
to the king, and he wondered at them. But that was 
not all. Clearly, Montezuma approved the war; that he 
intended its continuance was equally certain ; unhappily, 
there was no designation of a commander. And in thought 


HOW TO YIELD A CROWN. 


463 


of the omission, the young chief hesitated ; never did am- 
bition appeal to him more strongly ; but he brushed the 
allurement away, and said to Cuitlahua, — 

“ The king has been pleased to be silent as to which of us 
should govern in his absence ; but we are both of one mind : 
the right is yours naturally, and your coming at this time, 
good uncle, looks as if the gods sent you. Take the gov- 
ernment, therefore, and give me your orders. Malinche is 
stronger than ever.” He turned thoughtfully to the palace 
below, over which the flag of Spain and that of Cortes were 
now displayed. He will require of us days of toil and 
fighting, and many assaults. In conquering him there will 
be great glory, which I pray you will let me divide with 
you.” 

The lord Cuitlahua heard the patriotic speech with glisten- 
ing eyes. U ndoubtedly he appreciated the self-denial that 
made it beautiful ; for he said, with emotion, I accept the 
government, and, as its cares demand, will take my brother’s 
place in the palace ; do you take what else would be my 
place under him in the field. And may the gods help us 
each to do his duty ! ” 

He held out his hand, which the ’tzin kissed in token of 
fealty, and so yielded the crown ; and as if the great act 
were already out of mind, he said, — 

Come, now, good uncle, — and you, also, Tula, — come 
both of you, and I will show what use I made of the kingly 
power.” 

He led them closer to the verge of the azoteas, so close 
that they saw below them the whole western side of the city, 
and beyond that the lake and its shore, clear to the sierra 
bounding the valley in that direction. 

“ There,” said he, in the same strain of simplicity, there, 
in the shadow of the hills, I gathered the people of the val- 
ley, and the flower of all the tribes that pay us tribute. 


464 


THE FAIR GOD. 


They make an army the like of which was never seen. The 
chiefs are chosen ; you may depend upon them, uncle. The 
whole great host will die for you.” 

Say, rather, for us,” said the lord Cuitlahua. 

“No, you are now Anahuac” ; and, as deeming the point 
settled, the Tzin turned to Tula. “ 0 good heart,” he said, 
“ you have been a witness to all the preparation. At youi 
signal, given there by the palace gate, I kindled the piles 
which yet burn, as you see, at the four corners of the 
temple. Through them I spoke to the chiefs and armies 
waiting on the lake-shore. Look now, and see their an- 
swers.” 

They looked, and from the shore and from each preten- 
tious summit of the sierra, saw columns of smoke rising and 
melting into the sky. 

“In that way the chiefs tell me, ‘We are ready,’ or ‘We 
are coming.’ And we cannot doubt them ; for see, a dark 
line on the white face of the causeway to Cojohuacan, its 
head nearly touching the gates at Xoloc j and another from 
Tlacopan ; and from the north a third ; and yonder on the 
lake, in the shadow of Chapultepec, a yet deeper shadow.” 

“I see them,” said Cuitlahua. 

“ And I,” said Tula. “ What are they 1 ” 

For the first time the ’tzin acknowledged a passing sen- 
timent ; he raised his head and swept the air with a haughty 
gesture. 

“ What are they 1 Wait a little, and you shall see the lines 
on the causeways grow into ordered companies, and the 
shadows under Chapultepec become a multitude of canoes ; 
wait a little longer, and you shall see the companies fill all the 
great streets, and the canoes girdle the city round about ; 
wait a little longer, and you may see the battle.” 

And silence fell upon the three, — the silence, however, in 
which hearts beat like drurns. From point to point they 


IN THE LEAGUER. 


465 


turned their eager eyes, — from the causeways to the lake, 
from the lake to the palace. 

Slowly the converging lines crawled toward the city; 
slowly the dark mass under the royal 'hill, sweeping out on 
the lake, broke into divisions ; slowly the banners came into 
view, of every color and form, and then the shields and 
uniforms, until, at last, each host on its separate way 
looked like an endless unrolling ribbon. 

When the column approaching by the causeway from 
Tlacopan touched the city with its advance, it halted, wait- 
ing for the others, which, having farther to march, were yet 
some distance out. Then the three on the teocallis separated ; 
the princess retired to her chinampa ; the lord Cuitlahua, 
with some nobles of the ’tzin’s train, betook himself to the 
new palace, there to choose a household ; the 'tzin, for pur- 
poses of observation, remained on the azoteas. 

And all the time the threatened palace was a picture of 
peace ; the flags hung idly down ; only the sentinels were in 
motion, and they gossiped with each other, or lingered 
lazily at places where a wall or a battlement flung them a 
friendly shade. 


CHAPTEE VI. 

IN THE LEAGUER. 

B y and by a Spaniard came out through the main gate- 
way of the palace; after brief leave-taking with the 
guard there, he walked rapidly doAvn the street. The Tzin, 
observing that the man was equipped for a journey, sur- 
mised him to be a courier, and smiled at the confidence of 
the master who sent him forth alone at such a time. 

20 * DD 


466 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The courier went his way, and the great movement pro- 
ceeded. 

After a while Hualpa and lo’ came down from the turret 
where, under the urn of fire, they too had been watching, 
and the former said, — 

Your orders, 0 ’tzin, are executed. The armies all 
stand halted at the gates of the city, and at the outlet 
of each canal I saw a division of canoes lying in wait.” 

The Tzin looked up at the sun, then past meridian, and re- 
plied, “It is well. When the chiefs see but one smoke from 
this temple they wiU enter the city. Go, therefore, and 
put out all the fires except that of Huitzil’.” 

And soon but one smoke was to be seen. 

A little afterwards there was a loud cry from the street, 
and, looking down, the Tzin saw the Spanish courier, with- 
out morion or lance, staggering as he ran, and shouting. 
Instantly the great gate was flung open, and the man taken 
in ; and instantly a trumpet rang out, and then another and 
another. Guatamozin sprang up. The alarm-note thrilled 
him no less than the Christians. 

The palace, before so slumberous, became alive. The 
Tlascalans poured from the sheds, that at places lined the 
interior of the parapet, and from the main building forth 
rushed the Spaniards, — bowmen, slingers, and arquebusiers ; 
and the gunners took post by their guns, while the cavalry 
clothed their horses, and stood by the bridles. There was 
no tumult, no confusion ; and when the ’ tzin saw them in 
their places — placid, confident, ready — his heart beat 
hard : he would win, — on that he was resolved, — but 
ah, at what mighty cost ! 

Soon, half drowned by the voices of the captains muster- 
ing the enemy below, he heard another sound rising from 
every quarter of the city, but deeper and more sustained, 
where the great columns marched. He listened intently. 


IN THE LEAGUER. 


467 


Though far and faint, he recognized the susurrante, — liter- 
ally the commingled war-cries of almost all the known fight- 
ing tribes of the IS^ew AV'orld. The chiefs were faithful ; 
they were coming, — by the canals, and up and down the 
great streets, they were coming ; and he listened, measuring 
their speed by the growing distinctness of the clamor. As 
they came nearer, he became confident, then eager. Sud- 
denly, everything, — objects far and near, the old palace, and 
the hated flags, the lake, and the purple distance, and the 
unflecked sky, — all melted into mist, for he looked at them 
through tears. So the Last of the ’Tzins welcomed his 
tawny legions. 

While he indulged the heroic weakness, lo’ and Hualpa 
rejoined him. About the same time Cortes and some of his 
cavaliers appeared on the azoteas of the central and higher 
part of the palace. They were in armor, but with raised 
visors, and seemed to be conjecturing one with another, and 
listening to the portentous sounds that now filled the wel- 
kin. And as the ’tzin, in keen enjoyment, watched the 
wonder that plainly possessed the enemy, there was a flutter 
of gay garments upon the palace, and two women joined 
the party. 

^^’enetzin ! ” said lo’, in a low voice. 

“ I^'enetzin ! ” echoed Hualpa. 

And sharper grew his gaze, while down stooped the sun 
to illumine the face of the faithless, as, smiling the old 
.smile, she rested lovingly upon Alvarado’s arm. He turned 
away, and covered his head. But soon a hand was laid 
upon his shoulder, and he heard a voice, — the voice of the 
’tzin, — 

“ Lord Hualpa, as once before you were charged, I charge 
you now. With your own hand make the signal. lo’ will 
bring you'^the word. Go now.” Then the voice sunk to a 
whisper. Patience, comrade. The days for many to come 


468 


THE FAIR GOD. 


will be days of opportunity. Already the wrong-doer is in 
the toils ; yet a little longer. Patience ! ” 

The noise of the infidels had now come to be a vast 
uproar, astonishing to the bravest of the listeners. Even 
Cortes shared the common feeling. That w-ar was intended 
he knew ; but he had not sufficiently credited the Aztec 
genius. The whole valley appeared to be in arms. His face 
became a shade more ashy as he thought, either this was 
of the king, or the people were capable of gi’and action 
without the king ; and he griped his sword-hand hard in 
emphasis of the oath he swore, to set the monarch and his 
people face to face ; that would he, by his conscience, — 
by the blood of the saints ! 

And as he swore, here and there upon the adjacent houses 
irmed men showed themselves ; and directly the heads of 
columns came up, and, turning fight and left at the corners, 
began to occupy all the streets around the royal enclosure. 

If one would fancy what the cavaliers then saw, let him 
first recall the place. It was in the heart of the city. East- 
ward arose the teocallisj — a terraced hill in fact, and every 
terrace a vantage-point. On all other sides of the palace were 
edilices each higher than its highest part ; and each fronted 
with a wall resembling a parapet, except that its outer face 
was in general richly ornamented with fretwork and mould- 
ings and arches and grotesque corbals and cantilevers. 
Every roof was occupied by infidels ; over the sculptured 
walls they looked down into the fortress, if I may so call it, 
of the strangers. 

As the columns marched and countermarched in the 
streets thus beautifully bounded, they were a spectacle of 
extraordinary animation. Over them played the semi-trans- 
parent shimmer or thrill of air, so to speak, peculiar to armies 
in rapid movement, — curious effect of changing" colors and 
multitudinous motion. The Christians studied them with 


IN THE LEAGUER. 


469 


an interest inappreciable to such as have never known the 
sensations of a soldier watching the foe taking post for 
combat. 

Of arms there were in the array every variety known to 
the Aztecan service, — the long bow ; the javelin ; slings of 
the ancient fashion, fitted for casting stones a pound or more 
in weight ; the maquahuitl, limited to the officers ; and here 
and there long lances with heads of bronze or sharpened flint. 
The arms, it must be confessed, added little to the general 
appearance of the mass, — a deficiency amply compensated 
by the equipments. The quivers of the bowmen, and the 
pouches of the slingers, and the broad straps that held them 
to the person were brilliantly decorated. Equally striking 
were the costumes of the several branches of the service : 
the fillet, holding back the long, straight hair, and full of 
feathers, mostly of the eagle and turkey, though not un- 
frequently of the ostrich, — costly prizes come, in the way of 
trade, from the far llanos of the south ; the escaupil, of bright- 
est crimson ; the shield, faced with brazen plates, and edged 
with flying tufts of buffalo hair, and sometimes with longer 
and brighter locks, the gift of a mistress or a trophy of war. 
These articles, though half barbaric, lost nothing by contrast 
with the naked, dark-brown necks and limbs of the warriors, 
— lithe and stately men, from whom the officers were distin- 
guished by helmets of hideous device and mantles indescrib- 
ably splendid. Over all shone the ensigns, indicia of the 
tribes : here a shining sphere ; there a star, or a crescent, or 
a radial sun ; but most usually a floating cloth covered with 
blazonry. 

With each company marched a number of priests, bare- 
headed and frocked, and a corps of musicians, of whom some 
blew unearthly discords from conchs, while others clashed 
cymbals, and beat atabals fashioned like the copper tam-tams 
of the Hindoos. 


470 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Even the marching of the companies was peculiar. In- 
stead of the slow, laborious step of the European, they 
came on at a pace which, between sunrise and sunset, 
habitually carried them from the bivouac twenty leagues 
away. 

And as they marched, the ensigns tossed to and fro ; the 
priests sang monotonous canticles ; the cymbalists danced 
and leaped joyously at the head of their companies ; and the 
warriors in the ranks flung their shields aloft, and yelled 
their war-cries, as if drunk with happiness. 

As the inundation of war swept around the palace, a cav- 
alier raised his eyes to the temple. 

“ Valgame Dios ! ” he cried, in genuine alarm. “ The 
levies of the valley are not enough. Lo, the legions of the 
air ! ” 

On the azoteas where hut the moment before only the ’tzin 
and lo’ were to be seen, there were hundreds of caparisoned 
warriors ; and as the Christians looked at them, they all 
knelt, leaving but one man standing ; simultaneously the 
companies on the street stopped, and, with those on the 
house-tops, hushed their yells, and turned up to him their 
faces countless and glistening. 

“ Who is he ? ” the cavaliers asked each other. 

Cortes, cooler than the rest, turned to Marina ; Ask the 
princess Nenetzin if she knows him.” 

And Nenetzin answered, — 

The ’tzin Guatamo.” 

As the two chiefs surveyed each other in full recognition, 
down from the sky, as it were, broke an intonation so deep 
that the Christians were startled, and the women fled from 
the roof. 

Ola 1 ” cried Alvarado, with a laugh. “ I have heard 
that thunder before. Down with your visors, gentlemen, as 
ye care for the faces your mothers love ! ” 


IN THE LEAGUER. 


471 


Three times Hualpa struck the great drum in the sanctuary 
of Huitzil’ ; and as the last intonation rolled down over the 
city the clamor of the infidels broke out anew, and into 
the enclosure of the palace they poured a cloud of missiles 
so thick that place of safety there was not anywhere outside 
the building. 

To this time the garrison had kept silence ; now, standing 
each at his post, they answered. In the days of the former 
siege, besides preparing banquettes for the repulsion of esca- 
lades, they had pierced the outer walls, generally but little 
higher than a man’s head, with loop-holes and embrasures, 
out of which the guns, great and small, were suddenly pointed 
and discharged. No need of aim ; outside, not farther than 
the leap of the flames, stood the assailants. The effect, 
especially of the artillery, was dreadful ; and the prodigious 
noise, and the dense, choking smoke, stupefied and blinded 
the masses, so unused to such enginery. And from the wall 
they shrank staggering, and thousands turned to fly ; but in 
pressed the chiefs and the priests, and louder rose the clangor 
of conchs and cymbals : the very density of the multitude 
helped stay the panic. 

And down from the temple came the ’tzin, not merely to 
give the effect of his presence, but to direct the assault. In 
the sanctuary he had arrayed himself ; his escaupil and til- 
matli, of richest feather-work, fairly blazed ; his helm and 
shield sparkled ; and behind, scarcely less splendid, walked 
lo’ and Hualpa. He crossed the street, shouting his wi^r-cry. 
At sight of him, men struggling to get away turned to fight 
again. 

Next the wall of the palace the shrinking of the infidels 
had left a clear margin ; and there, the better to be seen by 
his people, the ’tzin betook himself. In front of the em- 
brasures he cleared the lines of fire, so that the guns were 
often ineffectual ; he directed attention to the loopholes, so 


472 


/ 


THE FAIR GOD. 


that the appearance of an arbalist or arquebus drew a hun- 
dred arrows to the spot. Taught by his example, the war- 
riors found that under the walls there was a place of safety ; 
then he set them to climbing ; for that purpose some stuck 
their javelins in the cracks of tlie masonry ; some formed 
groups over which others raised themselves ; altogether the 
crest of the wall was threatened in a thousand places, 
insomuch that the Tlascalans occupied themselves exclusively 
in its defence ; and as often as one raised to strike a climber 
down, he made himself a target for the quick bowmen on 
the opposite houses. 

And so, wherever the ’tzin went he inspired his country- 
men ; the wounded, and the many dead and dying, and * 
the blood maddened instead of daunting them. They 
rained missiles into the enclosure ; upon the wall tliey fought 
hand to hand with the defenders ; in their inconsiderate fury, 
many leaped down inside, and perished instantly, — but ail 
in vain. 

Then the ’tzin had great timbers brought up, thinking to 
batter in the parapet. Again and again they were hurled 
against the face of the masonry, but without ehect. 

Yet another resort. He had balls of cotton steeped in oil 
shot blazing into the palace-yard. Against the building, and 
on its tiled roof, they fell harmless. It happened, however, 
that the sheds in which the Tlascalans quartered consisted 
almost entirely of reeds, with roofs of* rushes and palm- 
leaves ; they burst into flames. Water could not be spared 
by the garrison, for the drought was great ; in the extremity, 
the Tlascalans and many Christians were drawn from the de- 
fences, and set to casting earth upon the new enemy. Hun- 
dreds of the former were killed or disabled. The flames 
spread to the wooden outworks of the waU. The smoke 
almost blotted out the day. After a while a part of the wall 
fell down, and the infidels rushed in ; a steady fire of arque^ 


IN THE LEAGUER YET 


473 


buses swept them away, and choked the chasm with the 
slain ; still others braved the peril ; company after company 
dashed into the fatal snare uselessly, as waves roll forward 
and spend themselves in the gorge of a sea-wall. 

The conflict lasted without abatement through long hours. 
The sun went down. In the twilight the great host with- 
drew, — all that could. The smoke from the conflagration 
and guns melted into the shades of night ; and the stars, 
mild-eyed as ever, came out one by one to see the wrecks 
heaped and ghastly lying in the bloody street and palace- 
yard. 

All night the defenders lay upon their arms, or, told off in 
working parties, labored to restore the breach. 

All night the infidels collected their dead and wounded, 
thousands in number. They did not offer to attack, — custom 
forbade that ; yet over the walls they sent their vengeful 
warnings. 

All night the listening sentinels on the parapet noted the 
darkness filled with sounds of preparation from every quar- 
ter of the city. And they crossed themselves, and muttered 
the names of saints and good angels, and thought shudder- 
ingly of the morrow. 


CHAPTER VII. 

IN THE LEAGUER YET. 

a UATAMOZIN took little rest that night. The very 
uncertainty of the combat multiplied his cares. It 
was not to be supposed that his enemy would keep to the 
palace, content day after day with receiving assaults ; that 
was neither his character nor his policy. To-morrow he would 
certainly open the gates, and try conclusions in thft streets 


i74 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The first duty, therefore, was to provide for such a con- 
tingency. So the 'tzin went along all the streets leading 
to the old palace, followed hy strong working-parties ; and 
where the highest houses fronted each other, he stopped, 
and thereat the details fell to making barricades, and carry- 
ing stones and logs to the roofs. As a final measure of im- 
portance, he cut passages through the walls of the houses 
and gardens, that companies might be passed quickly and 
secretly from one thoroughfare to another. 

Everywhere he found great cause for mourning ; but the 
stories of the day were necessarily lost in the demands of 
the morrow. 

He visited his caciques, and waited on the lord Cuitlahua 
to take his orders ; then he passed to the temples, whence, 
as he well knew, the multitudes in great part derived their 
inspiration. The duties of the soldier, politician, and devotee 
discharged, he betook himself to the chinampa, and to Tula 
told the heroisms of the combat, and his plans and hopes ; 
there he renewed his own inspirations. 

Toward morning he returned to the great temple. Hualpa 
and lo’, having followed him throughout his round, spread 
their mantles on the roof, and slept : he could not ; between 
the work of yesterday and that to come, his mind played 
pendulously, and with such forceful activity as forbade 
slumber. Erom the quarters of the strangers, moreover, he 
heard constantly the ringing of hammers, the neighing and 
trampling of steeds, and voices of direction. It was a long 
night to him ; but at last over the crown of the White 
Woman the dawn flung its first light into the valley ; and 
then he saw the palace, its walls manned, the gunners by 
their pieces, and in the great court lines of footmen, and at 
the main gate horsemen standing by their bridles. 

“ Thanks, O gods ! ” he cried. “ Walls will not separata 
my people from their enemies to-day 1 


IN THE LEAGUER YET. 


475 


With tlie sunrise the assault began, — a repetition of that 
of the day before. 

Then the guns opened ; and while the infidels reeled 
under the fire, out of the gates rode Cortes and his chivalry, 
a hundred men-at-arms. Into the mass they dashed. Space 
sufficient having been won, they wheeled southward down 
the beautiful street, followed by detachments of bowmen 
and arquebusiers and Tlascalans. With them also went 
Mesa and his guns. 

When fairly in the street, environed with walls, the ’tzin’s 
tactics and preparation appeared. Upon the approach of 
the cavalry, the companies took to the houses ; only those 
fell who stopped to fight or had not time to make the exit. 
All the time, however, the horsemen were exposed to the 
missiles tossed upon them from the roofs. Soon as they 
passed, out rushed the infidels in hordes, to fall upon the 
flanks and rear -of the supporting detachments. Never was 
Mesa so hard pressed ; never were helm and corselet so 
nearly useless ; never gave up the ghost so many of the 
veteran Tlascalans. 

At length the easy way of the cavalry was brought to a 
stop ; before them was the first barricade, — a work of earth 
and stones too high to be leaped, and defended by Chinan- 
tlan spears, of all native weapons the most dreaded. Never- 
theless, Cortes drew rein only at its foot. On the instant 
his shield and mail warded off a score of bronzed points, 
whirled his axe, crash went the spears, — that was all. 

Meantime, the eager horsemen in the rear, not knowing 
of the obstacle in front, pressed on ; the narrow space be- 
came packed ; then from the roofs on the right hand and 
the left descended a tempest of stones and lances, blent 
with beams of wood, against which no guard was strong 
enough. Six men and horses fell there. A cry of dismay 
arose from the pack, and much calling was there on patron 


476 


THE FAIR GOD. 


jsaints, much writhing and swaying of men and plunging of 
steeds, and vain looking upward through bars of steeL 
Cortes quitted smashing spears over the barricade. 

“ Out ! out ! Back, in Christ’s name ! ” he cried. 

The jam was finally relieved. 

Again his voice, — 

To Mesa, some of ye ; bring the guns ! Speed ! ” 

Then he, too, rode slowly back ; and sharper than the 
shame of the retreat, sharper than the arrows or the taunts 
of the foe, sharper than all of them together, was the sight 
of the six riders in their armor left to quick despoilment, — 
they and their good steeds. 

It was not easy for Mesa to come ; but he did, opening 
within a hundred feet of the barricade. Again and again 
he fired ; the smoke wreathed blinding white about him. 

“ What sayest thou now ? ” asked Cortes, impatiently. 

“ That thou mayest go, and thou wilt. The saints go with 
thee ! ” 

The barricade was a ruin. 

At the first bridge again there was a fierce struggle ; when 
taken, the floor was heaped with dead and wounded infidels. 

And so for hours. Only at the last gate, that opening on 
the causeway to Iztapalapan, did Cortes stay the sally. There, 
riding to the rear, now become the front, he started in re- 
turn. Needless to tell how well the Christians fought, or 
how devotedly the pagans resisted and perished. Enough 
that the going back was more difficult than the coming. 
Four more of the Spaniards perished on the way. 

At a late hour that night Sandoval entered Cortes’ room, 
and gave him a parchment. The chief went to the lamp and 
read ; then, snatching his sword from the table, he walked 
to and fro, as was his wont when much disturbed ; only his 
strides were longer, and the gride of the weapon on the tiled 
floor more relentless than common. 


IN THE LEAGUER YET. 


477 


He stopped abruptly. 

“Dead, ten of them ! And their. horses, captain]” 

“ Three were saved,” replied Sandoval. 

“ By my conscience, I like it not ! and tlu)u 1 ” 

“ I like it less,” said the captain, naively. 

“ What say the men ] ” 

“ They demand to he led from the city while yet they 
have strength to go.” 

Cortes frowned and continued his walk. When next he 
stopped, he said, in the tone of a man whose mind was 
made up, — 

“ Good night, captain. See that the sentinels sleep not ; 
and, captain, as thou goest, send hither Martin Lopez, and 
mind him to bring one or two of his master carpenters. 
Good night.” 

The mind of the leader, never so quick as in time of 
trouble, had in the few minutes reviewed the sortie. True, 
he had broken through the barricades, taken bridge after 
bridge, and driven the enemy often as they opposed him ; 
he had gone triumphantly to the very gates of the city, and 
returned, and joined Qlmedo in unctuous celebration of the 
achievement ; yet the good was not as clear and immediate 
as at first appeared. 

He recalled the tactics of his enemy : how, on his ap- 
proach, they had vanished from the street and assailed him 
from the roofs ; how, when he had passed, they poured into 
the street again, ^ and flung themselves hand to hand upon 
the infantry and artillery. And the result, — ten riders and 
seven horses were dead ; of the Tlascalans in the column 
nearly all had perished ; every Christian foot-soldier had one 
or more wounds. At Cempoalla he himself had been hurt 
in the left hand ; now he was sore with contusions. He set 
his teeth hard at thought of the moral effect of the day’s 
work j how it would raise the spirit of the infidels, and de- 


478 


THE FAIR GOD. 


press that of his own people. Already the latter were 
clamoring to be led from the city, — so the blunt Captain 
Sandoval had said. 

The enemy’s advantage was in the possession of the 
houses. The roofs dominated the streets. Were there no 
means by which he could dominate the roofs 1 He bent 
his whole soul to the problem. Somewhere he had read or 
heard of the device known in ancient warfare as mantelets^ 

— literally, a kind of portable roof, under which besiegers 
approached and sapped or battered a wall. The recollection 
was welcome ; the occasion called for an extraordinary re- 
sort. He laid the sword gently upon the table, gently as he 
would a sleeping child, and sent for Lopez. 

That worthy came, and with him two carpenters, each as 
rough as himself. And it was a picture, if not a comedy, 
to watch the four bending over the table to follow Cortes, 
while, with his dagger-point, he drew lines illustrative of the 
strange machine. They separated with a perfect understand- 
ing. The chief slept soundly, his confidence stronger than 
ever. 

Another day, — the third. From morn tiU noon and 
night, the clamor of assault and the exertion of defence, the 
roar of guns from within, the rain of missiles from without, 

— Death everywhere. 

All the day Cortes held to the palace. On the other side, 
the ’tzin kept close watch from the teocallis. That morning 
early he had seen workmen bring from the p)alace some stout 
timbers, and in the great court-yard proceed to frame them. 
He plied the party with stones and arrows ; again and again, 
best of all the good bowmen of the valley, he himself sent 
his shafts at the man who seemed the director of the 
work ; as often did they splinter upon his helm or corselet, or 
drop harmless from the close links of tempered steel de- 
fending his limbs. The work wert steadily on, and by noon 


IN THE LEAGUER YET. 


479 


liad taken the form of towers, two in number, and high 
as ordinary houses. By sunset both were under roof. 

When the night came, the garrison were not rested ; and 
as to the infidels, the lake received some hundreds more of 
them, which was only room made for other hundreds as brave 
and devoted. 

Over the palace walls the besiegers sent words ominous and 
disquieting, and not to be confounded with the half-sung 
formulas of the watchers keeping time on the temples by the 
movement of the stars. 

“ Malinche, Malinche, we are a thousand to your one. 
Our gods hunger for vengeance. You cannot escape 
them.” 

So the Spaniards heard in their intervals of unrest. 

“ 0 false sons of Anahuac, the festival is making ready ; 
your hearts are Huitzil’s ; the cages are open to receive you.” 

The Tlascalans heard, and trembled. 

The fourth day. Still Cortes kept within the palace, and 
still the assault ; nor with all the slaughter could there be 
perceived any decrease either in the number of the infidels 
or the spirit of their attack. 

Meantime the workmen in the court-yard clung to the 
construction of the towers. Lopez was skilful, Cortes im- 
patient. At last they were finished. 

That night the Tzin visited Tula. At parting, she followed 
him to the landing. Yeteve went with her. “ The blessing 
of the gods be upon you ! ” she said ; and the benediction, so 
trustful and sweetly spoken, was itself a blessing. Even 
the slaves, under their poised oars, looked at her and for- 
got themselves, as well they might. The light of the great 
torch, kindled by the keeper of the chinampa, revealed her 
perfectly. The head slightly bent, and the hands crossed 
over the breast, helped the prayerful speech. Her eyes were 
not upon the slaves, yet their effect was ; and they were 


480 


THE FAIR GOD. 


such eyes as give to night the beauty of stars, while taking 
nothing from it, neither depth nor darkness. 

The canoe put off. 

“ Farewell,” said lo’. His warrior-life was yet in its 
youth. 

“ Farewell,” said Hualpa. And she heard him, and knew 
him thinking of his lost love. 

In the Tzin’s absence the garrison of the temple had been 
heavily reinforced. The azoteas, when he returned, was 
covered with warriors, asleep on their mantles, and pillowed 
on their shields. He bade his companions catch what 
slumber they could, and went into the grimy but full-lighted 
presence-chamber, and seated himself on the step of the 
altar. In a little while Hualpa came in, and stopped before 
him as if for speech. 

“You have somewhat to say,” said the Tzin, kindly. 
“ Speak.” 

“ A word, good ’tzin, a single word. lo' lies upon his 
mantle ; he is weary, and sleeps well. I am weary, but can- 
not sleep. I suffer — ” 

“ What 1 ” asked the ’tzin. 

“ Discontent.” 

“ Discontent ! ” 

“ 0 ’tzin, to follow you and win your praise has been 
my greatest happiness ; but as yet I have done nothing by 
myself. I pray you, give me liberty to go where I please, 
if only for a day.” 

“ Where would you go ? ” 

“ Where so many have tried and failed, — over the wall, 
into the palace.” 

There was a long silence, during which the supplicant 
looked on the floor, and the master at him. 

“ I think I understand you,” the latter at length said. 

To-morrow I will give you answer. Go now.” 


THE BATTLE OF THE MANTAS. 


481 


Hualpa touched the floor with his palm, and left the 
chamber. The ’tzin remained thoughtful, motionless. An 
hour passed. 

Over the wall, into the palace ! ” he said, musingly. 
“ IN’ot for country, not for glory, — for Nenetzin. Alas, 
poor lad ! From his life she has taken the life. Over the 
wall into the — Sun. To-morrow comes swiftly ; good or 
ill, the gifts it brings are from the gods. Patience ! ” 

And upon the step he spread his mantle, and slept, mut- 
tering, “ Over the wall, into the palace, and she has not 
called him ! Poor lad ! ” 


CHAPTER VIIL 


THE BATTLE OF THE MANTAS. 


HE report of a gun awoke the Tzin in the morning. 



X The great uproar of the assault, now become familiar 
to him, filled the chamber. He knelt on the step and prayed, 
for there was a cloud upon his spirit, and over the idol’s stony 
face there seemed to he a cloud. He put on his helm and 
mantle ; at the door Hualpa oflered him his arms. 

“Ho,” he said, “bring me those we took from the 
stranger.” 

Hualpa marked the gravity of his manner, and with a 
rising heart and a smile, the first seen on his lips for many 
a day, he brought a Spanish shield and battle-axe, and gave 
them to him. 

Then the din below, bursting out in greater volume, drew 
the ’tzin to the verge of the temple. The warriors made 
way for him reverently. He looked down into the square, 
and through a veil of smoke semilucent saw Cortes and his 


21 


E E 


482 


THE FAIR GOD. 


cavaliers cliarge the ranks massed in front of the j)alaoe 
gate. The gate stood open, and a crowd of the Tlascalans were 
pouring out of the portal, hauling one of the towers whose 
construction had been the mystery of the days last passed ; 
they bent low to the work, and cheered each other with their 
war-cries ; yet the manta — so called by Cortes — moved 
slowly, as if loath to leave. In the same manner the other 
tower was drawn out of the court ; then, side by side, both 
were started down the street, which they filled so nearly 
that room was hardly left for the detachments that guarded 
the Tlascalans on the flanks. 

The fighting ceased, and silently the enemies stared at the 
spectacle, — such power is there in curiosity. 

At sight of the structures, rolling, rocking, rumbling, and 
creaking dismally in every wheel, Cortes’ eyes sparkled fire- 
like through his visor. The ’tzin, on the other hand, was dis- 
turbed and anxious, although outwardly calm ; for the ob- 
jects of the common wonder were enclosed on every side, 
and he knew as little what they contained as of their use 
and operation. 

Slowly they rolled on, until past the intersection of the 
streets ; there they stopped. Eight and left of them were 
beautiful houses covered with warriors for the moment con- 
verted into spectators. A hush of expectancy everywhere 
prevailed. The ’tzin shaded his eyes with his hand, and 
leant eagerly forward. Suddenly, from the sides of the 
machine next the walls, masked doors dropped out, and guns, 
charged to the muzzle, glared over the house-tops, then swept 
them with fire. 

A horrible scream flew along the street and up to the 
azoteas of the temple ; at the same time, by ladders extended 
to the coping of the walls, the Christians leaped on the roofs, 
like boarders on a ship’s deck, and mastered them at once ; 
whereupon they returned, and were about taking in the lad- 


THE BATTLE OF THE MANTAS. 


483 


tiers, when Cortes galloped back, and, riding from one to the 
other, shouted, — 

“ Ordas ! Avila ! Mir ad ! Where are the torches I gave 
ye % Out again ! Leave not a stone to shelter the dogs ! 
Leave nothing but ashes ! Pronto^ pronto / ” 

The captains answered promptly. With jiamheanx of 
resinous pine and cotton, they fired all the wood-work of the 
interior of the buildings. Smoke burst from the doors and 
windows ; then the detachments retreated, and were rolled 
on without the loss of a man. 

Behind the mantas there was a strong rear-guard of in- 
fantry and artillery ; with which, and the guards on the 
flanks, and the cavaliers forcing way at the front, it seemed 
impossible to avert, or even interrupt, an attack at once so 
novel and successful. 

The smoke from the burning houses, momentarily thicken- 
ing and widening, was seen afar, and by the heathen hailed 
with cries of alarm : not so Cortes ; riding everywhere, in 
the van, to the rear, often stopping by the mantas^ which he 
regarded with natural affection, as an artist does his last 
work, he tasted the joy of successful genius. The smoke 
rising, as it were, to Heaven, carried up his vows not to 
stop until the city, with all its idolatries, • was a heap of 
ashes and lime, — a holocaust to the Mother such as had 
never been seen. The cheeriness of his constant cry, 
“ Christo, Christo y Santiago communicated to his people, 
and they marched laughing and fighting. 

Opposition had now almost ceased; at the approach of 
the mantas, the house-tops were given up without resistance. 
A general panic appeared to have seized the pagans ; they 
even vacated the street, so that the cavaliers had little else to 
do than ride leisurely, turning now and then to see the fires 
behind them, and the tall machines come lumbering on. 

As remarked, when the manias stopped at the intersection 


484 


THE FAIR GOD. 


of the streets, the ’tzin watched them eagerly, for he knew 
the time had come to make their use manifest ; he saw a 
door drop, and the jet of flame and smoke leap from a gun ; 
he heard the cry of agony from the house-tops, and the 
deeper cry from all the people ; to the chiefs around him he 
said, with steady voice, and as became a leader, — 

“ Courage, friends ! We have them now. Malinche is 
mad to put his people in such traps. Lord Hualpa, go round 
the place of combat and see that the first bridge is im- 
passable ; for there, unless the towers have wings, and can 
fly, they must stop. And to you, lo’,” he spoke to the lad 
tenderly, “ I give a command and sacred trust. Stay here, 
and take care of the gods.” 

lo’ kissed his hand, and said, fervently, “ May the gods 
care for me as I will for them ! ” 

To other chiefs, calling them by name, he gave directions 
for the renewal of the assault on the palace, now weakened 
by the sortie, and for the concentration of fresh companies 
in the rear of the enemy, to contest their return. 

‘‘ And now, my good lord,” he said to a cacique, gray- 
headed, but of magnificent frame, you have a company of 
Tezcucans, formerly the guards of king Cacama’s palace. 
Bring them, and follow me. Come.” 

A number of houses covering quite half a square were by 
this time on fire. Those of wood burned furiously ; the 
morning, however, was almost breathless, so that the cinders 
did little harm. On the left side of the street stood a build- 
ing of red stone, its front profusely carved, and further 
ornamented with a marble portico, — a palace, in fact, mas- 
sively built, and somewhat higher than the mantas. Its 
entrances were barricaded, and on the roof, where an 
enemy might be looked for, there was not a spear, helm, 
or sign of life, except some fan-palms and long banana- 
branches. Before the stately front the mantas were at length 


THE BATTLE OF THE MANTAS. 


485 


hauled. Immediately the door on that side was dropped, 
and the ladder fixed, and Avila, who had the command, 
started with his followers to take possession and apply the 
torch. Suddenly, the coping of the palace-front flamed with 
feathered helms and points of bronze. 

Avila was probably as skilful and intrepid as any of Cortes' 
captains ; but now he was surprised : directly before him 
stood Guatamozin, whom every Spaniard had come to know 
and respect as the most rodoubted of all the warriors of 
Anahuac ; and he shone on the captain a truly martial figure, 
confronting him with Spanish arms, a shield with a face of 
iron and a battle-axe of steel. Avila hesitated ; and as he 
did so, the end of the ladder was lifted from the wall, poised 
a moment in the air, then flung off. 

The 'tzin had not time to observe the effect of the fall, for 
a score of men came quickly up, bringing a beam of wood as 
long and large as the spar of a brigantine ; a trailing rope at 
its further end strengthened the likeness. Resting the beam 
on the coping of the wall, at a word, they plunged it forward 
against the manta, which rocked under the blow. A yell 
of fear issued from within. The Tlascalans strove to haul 
the machine away, but the Tezcucans from their height 
tossed logs and stones upon them, crushing many to death, 
and putting the rest in such fear that their efforts were vain. 
Meantime, the beam was again shot forward over the coping, 
and with such effect that the roof of the manta sprang from 
its fastenings, and nearly toppled off. 

The handiwork so rudely treated was not as stout as the 
ships Martin Lopez sailed on the lake. It was simply a 
square tower, two stories high, erected on wheels. The 
frame was enclosed with slabs, pinned on vertically, and 
pierced with loopholes. On the sides there were apertures 
defended by doors. The roof, sloping hip-fashion, had an 
outer covering of undressed skins as protection against fire. 


486 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The lower floor was for the Tlascalans, should they he driven 
from the drag-ropes ; in the second story there was a gun, 
some arquehusiers, and a body of pikemen to storm the 
house-tops ; so that altogether the contrivance could hardly 
stand hauling over the street, much less a battery like that 
it was then receiving. At the third blow it became an un- 
tenable wreck. 

“ Avila ! ” cried Cortes. “ Where art thou 1 ” 

The good captain, with four of his bravest men, lay in- 
sensible, if not dead, under the ladder. 

“ Mercy, 0 Mother of God, mercy ! ” groaned Cortes ; 
next moment he was himself again. 

“What do ye here, menl Out and away before these 
timbers tumble and crush ye ! ” 

One man stayed. 

“ The gun, Senor, the gun ! ” he protested. 

Spurring close to the door, Cortes said, “ As thou art a 
Christian, get thee down, comrade, and quickly. I can bet- 
ter spare the gun than so good a gunner.” 

Then the beam came again, and, with a great crash, tore 
away the side of the manta. The gun rolled backward, and 
burst through the opposite wall of the room. The veteran 
disappeared. 

By this time all eyes were turned to the scene. The 
bowmen and arquebusiers in the column exerted themselves 
to cover their unfortunate comrades. Upon the neighboring 
houses a few infidels, on the watch, yelled joyously, — 
“ The ’tzin ! the ’tzin ! ” From them the shout, spread through 
the cowering army, became, indeed, a battle-cry significant 
of success. 

To me, good reader, the miracles of the world, if any 
there be, are not the things men do in masses, but the sub- 
limer things done by one man over the many ; they testify 
most loudly of God, since without him they could not 


THE BATTLE OF THE MANTAS. 


487 


have been. I am too good a Christian to say this of a 
heathen; nevertheless, without the ’tzin his country had 
perished that morning. Back to the roofs came the de- 
fenders, into the street poured the companies again ; no 
leisure now for the cavaliers. With the other manta Or- 
das moved on gallantly, but the work was hard ; at some 
houses he failed, others he dared not attack. From front 
to rear the contest became a battle. In the low places of 
the street and pavement the blood flowed warm, then cooled 
in blackening pools. The smoke of the consuming houses, 
distinguishable from that of the temples, collected into a 
cloud, and hung wide-spread over the combat. The yells of 
Christians and infidels, fusing into a vast monotone, roared 
like the sea. Twice Mesa Avent to the front, — the cava- 
liers had need of him, — twice he returned to the rear. 

The wrath of the Aztecs seemed especially directed against 
the Tlascalans tugging at the ropes of the manta ; as a con- 
sequence, their quilted armor was torn to rags, and so many 
of them were wounded, so many killed, that at every stop- 
page the wheels were more difficult to start ; and to make 
the’ movement still more slow and uncertain, the carcasses of 
the. dead had to be rolled or carried out of the way ; and 
the dead, sooth to say, were not always Aztecs. 

Luis Marin halted to breathe. 

“ Olay companero / What dost thou there % ” 

“ By all the saints ! ” answered Alvarado, on foot, tighten- 
ing his saddle-girth. “ Was ever the like ? It hath been 
strike, strike, — kill, kill, — for an hour. I am dead in the 
right arm from finger to shoulder. And now here is a buckle 
that refuseth its Avork. Carambaf My glove is slippery 
with blood ! ” 

And so step by step, — each one bought with a life, — the 
Christians won their way to the first bridge : the floor was 
gone I Coides reined his horse, bloody from hoof to frontlet, 


488 


THE FAIR GOD. 


by the edge of the chasm. Since daybreak figiiting, and but 
a square gained ! The water, never so placid, was the utmost 
limit of his going. He looked at the manta, now, like that 
of Avila, a mocking failure. He looked again, and a blas- 
phemy beyond the absolution of 01m edo, I fear, broke the 
clenching of his jaws, — not for the machines, or the hopes 
they had raised, but the days their construction lost him. 
As he looked, through a rift in the cloud still rising along 
the battle’s track, he saw the great temple ; gay banners and 
gorgeous regalia, all the splendor of barbaric war, filled that 
view, and inspired him. To the cavaliers, close around and 
in waiting, he turned. The arrows smote his mail and 
theirs, yet he raised his visor : the face was calm, even smil- 
. ing, for the will is a quality apart from mind and passion. 

“We will go back, gentlemen,” he said. “ The city is on 
fire, — enough for one day. And hark ye, gentlemen. We 
have had enough of common blood. Let us go now and see 
of what the heathen gods are made.” 

His hearers were in the mood ; they raised their shields 
and shouted, — 

“ To the temple ! To the temple ! For the love of 
Christ, to the temple ! ” 

The cry sped down the column ; and as the men caught its 
meaning they faced about of their own will. Wounds, weari- 
ness, and disappointments were forgotten ; the rudest soldier 
became a zealot on the instant. Al templo ! Adelante, ade- 
lante I rose like a new chorus, piercing the battle’s monotone. 

Cortes stood in his stirrups, and lo ! the enemy, ranked 
close, like corn in the full ear, yet outreaching his vision, — 
plumed, bannered, brilliant, and terrible. 

“ Close and steady, swords of the Church ! What ye see 
is but grass for the cutting. Yonder is the temple we seek 
Follow me. Adelante! Christo y Santiago 

So saying, he spurred in deep amongst the infidels. 


OVER THE WALL, — INTO THE PALACE. 


489 


CHAPTER IX. 


OVER THE WALL, INTO THE PALACE. 

HE duty Hualpa had been charged with by the ’tzin 



JL Avas not difficult of performance; for the bridges of 
the capital, even those along the beautiful street, were much 
simpler structures than they appeared. When he had seen 
the balustrades and flooring and the great timbers that 
spanned the canal — the first one south of the old palace — 
torn from their places, and hauled off by the canoemen whom 
he had collected for the purpose, he returned to the temple 
to rejoin his master. 

The assault upon the palace, when he reached that point, 
was more furious than at any previous time. The companies 
in the street were fighting with marvellous courage, while the 
missiles from the azoteas and westward terraces of the tem- 
ple, and all' the houses around, literally darkened the air. 
Amidst the clamor Hualpa caught at intervals the cry, — 
“ The ’tzin, the ’tzin ! ” He listened, and all the loyal thou- 
sands seemed shouting, “ The ’tzin, the ’tzin ! Al-a- 


lalar^ 


“ Has anything befallen the ’tzin ? ” he asked of an ac- 
quaintance. 

‘‘Yes, thanks to Huitzil’ ! He has broken one of Ma- 
linche’s towers to pieces, and kiUed everybody in it.” 

Hualpa’s love quickened suddenly. “ Blessed be all the 
gods ! ” he cried, and, passing on, ’ascended to the azoteas. 
It may have been the battle, full of invocations, as battles 
always are ; or it may have been that lo’, in full enjoyment 
of his command, and so earnest in its performance, stimulated 
his ambition ; or it may have been the influence of liis j^ecu 


490 


THE FAIR GOD. 


liar sorrow, the haunting memories of his love, and she, its 
star, separated from him by so little, — something made him 
restless and feverish. He talked with the caciques and 
priests ; he clomh the turret, and watched the smoke go 
sjftly up, and hide itself in the deeper blue of the sky ; with 
lo’, he stood on the temple’s verge, and witnessed the fight, 
at times using bow and sling ; but nothing brought him re- 
lief. The opportunity he had so long desired was here call- 
ing him, and passing away. 0 for an hour of liberty to 
enact himself ! 

Unable to endure the excitement, he started in search of 
the ’tzin, knowing that, wherever he was, there was action, 
if not opportunity. At that moment he saw a cacique in 
the street plant a ladder against the wall of the palace not 
far from the main gate. The Tlascalans defending at that 
point tried to throw it off, but a shower of stones from 
the terrace of the temple deluged them, and they disap- 
peared. Up went the cacique, up went his followers ; 
they gained the crest .; then the conflict passed from 
Hualpa’s view. 

“ lo’,” he said, “ when the ’tzin comes back, teU him I have 
gone to make a way for him through yon wall.” 

“ Have a care, comrade ; have a care ! ” 

Hualpa put an arm around him, and replied, smiling, 
“ There is one over the waU now : if he fears not, shall 1 1 
And then,” — he whispered low, — ‘‘ Henetzin will despise 
me if I come not soon.” 

A dawning fell upon lo’, and from that time he knew the 
power of love. ^ 

The gods go with you ! Farewell.” 

Hualpa set about his purpose deliberately. Hear the door 
of the presence-chamber there was a pile of trophies, shields, 
arms, and armor of men and horses ; he made some selec- 
tions from the heap, and carried them into the chamber. 


OVER THE WALL, — INTO THE PALACE. 


491 


When he came out, under his 'panache there was a steel cap, 
and under his mantle a cuirass ; and to some dead Spaniard 
he was further beholden for a shield and battle-axe, — the 
latter so called, notwithstanding it had a head like a ham- 
mer, and a handle of steel pointed at the end and more than 
a yard in length. 

Thus prepared, he went down into the street, and forced 
his way to the ladder planted near the gate j thence to the 
crest of the waU. A hundred arrows splintered against his 
shield, as he looked down upon the combat yet maintained 
by the brave cacique at the foot of the banquette. 

The wall, as I think I have elsewhere said, was built of 
blocks of wrought stone, laid in cement only a little less 
hard than the stone, and consequently impervious to any 
battery against its base ; at the same time, taken piece by 
piece from the top, its demolition was easy. Hualpa paused 
not ; between the blocks he drove the pointed handle of his 
axe : a moment, and down fell the capping-stone ; another 
followed, and another. Alike indifferent to the arrows of 
the garrison and the acclamations of jbhe witnesses outside, 
looking neither here nor there, bending every faculty to the 
task, he did in a few minutes what seemed impossible : 
through a breach wide enough for the passage of a double 
sedan, foemen within and without the wall saw each other. 

And there was hastening thither of detachments. Up the 
ladder and over the wall leaped the devoted infidels, noth- 
ing deterred by waiting swords and lances; striking or 
dying, they shouted, “The 'tzin, the ’tzin ! Al-a-lalaT' 
Live or die, they strove to cover the steadfast workman in 
the breach. 

De Olid, at the time in charge of the palace, drew nigh, 
attracted by the increasing uproar. 

“ Ye fools ! Out on ye ! See ye not that the dog is hid- 
ing behind a Christian shield ! Eun, fly, bring a brace of 


492 


THE FAIR GOD. 


arquebusiers ! Bring the reserve guns ! Upon them, gentle- 
men ! Swords and axes ! The Mother for us all ! Christo, 
Christo r' 

And on foot, and in full armor, he pushed into the press ; 
for, true to his training, he saw that the laborer behind the 
shining shield was more worthy instant notice than the 
hordes clambering over the wall. 

Still the breach widened and deepened, and every rock 
that tumbled from its place contributed to the roadway form- 
ing on both sides of the wall to facilitate the attack. But 
now the guns were coming, and the arquebusiers made haste 
to plant their pieces, against which the good shield might 
not defend. Suddenly Hualpa stood up, his surcoat whit- 
ened with the dust of the mortar ; without a word he de- 
scended to the street : the work was done, — a way for the 
Hzin was ready / Scarcely had he touched the pavement 
before the guns opened ; scarcely had the guns opened 
before the gorge was crowded with infidels rushing in. The 
palace, wanting the column absent with Cortes, was in dan- 
ger. To the one point every Christian was withdrawn \ 
even the sick and wounded staggered from the hospital to 
repel the attack. With all his gallantry, De Olid was beaten 
slowly back to the house. Cursed he the infidels, prayed 
he the return of Cortes, — still he went back. In the midst 
of his perplexity, a messenger came to tell him the enemy was 
breaking through the wall of the western front. 

Hualpa had not only made another breach, — De Olid 
found him inside the enclosure, with a support abeady too 
strong for the Tlascalans. 

The fight the good captain was called to witness was that 
of native against native; and, had the peril been less de- 
manding, he would have enjoyed its novelties. An astonish- 
ing rattle of shields and spears, mixed with the clash of 
maquahuitls, and a deafening outcry from the contending 


OVER THE WALL, — INTO THE PALACE. 


493 


tribes saluted him. Over the fighting lines the air was thick 
with stones and flying javelins and tossing banners. Quar- 
ter was not once asked. The grim combatants engaged each 
other to conquer or die. Hither and thither danced the 
priests, heedless of the danger, now cursing the laggards, 
now blessing the brave. And at times so shrilly blew the 
conch s that where they were nothing might he heard but the 
shriller medley of war-cry answering war-cry. 

I doubt if the captain took other note of the fight than 
its menace to the palace; and if he prayed the return of 
Cortes a little more fervently than before, it was not from 
fear, or confusion of mind ; for straightway he appealed to 
that arm which had been the last and saving resort of the 
Christians in many a former strait. Soon every disengaged 
gun was in position before the western door of the palace, 
loaded full of stones not larger than bird's-eggs, and trained, 
through the crowd, upon the breach, — and afterwards there 
were those who charged that the captain did not wait for all 
his Tlascalans to get out of the way. The guns opened with 
united voices ; palace and paved earth trembled ; and the 
smoke, returning upon the pieces, enveloped everything, in- 
somuch that the door of the house was not to be seen, nor 
was friend distinguishable from enemy. 

If my reader has been in battle, he knows the effect of 
that fire too well to require description of me ; he can hear 
the cries of the wounded, and see the ghastly wrecks on the 
pavement ; he can see, too, the recoil of the Aztecs, and the 
rush of the Tlascalans, savagely eager to foUow up their ad- 
vantage. I leave the scene to his fancy, and choose rather 
to go with a warrior who, availing himself of the shrouding 
of the smoke, pushed through the throng behind the guns, 
and passed into the palace. His steps were hurried, and he 
looked neither to the right nor left ; those whom he brushed 
out of the way had but time to see him pass, or to catch an 


494 


THE FAIR GOD. 


instant’s view of a figure of motley appurtenances, — a Chris' 
tian shield and battle-axe, a close cap of steel, and the gleam 
of a corselet under the colorless tatters of a surcoat of feather- 
work, — a figure impossible to identify as friend or foe. The 
reader, however, will recognize Hualpa coming out of the 
depths of the battle, but going — whither ? 

Once before, as may be remembered, he had been in the an- 
cient house, — the time when, in a fit of shame and remorse, 
he had come to lay his lordship and castle at the king’s feet ; 
then he had entered by the eastern portal, and passed to the 
royal presence under guidance : this time his entry was from 
the west, and he was alone, and unacquainted with the vast 
interior, its halls, passages, courts, and chambers. In his first 
visit, moreover, peace had been the rule, and he could not 
go amiss for friends : now the palace was a leaguered citadel, 
and he could hardly go amiss for enemies. 

Whatever his purpose, he held boldly on. It is possible 
he counted on the necessities of the battle requiring, as in 
fact they did, the presence of every serviceable man of the 
garrison. The few he met passed him in haste, and without 
question. He avoided the courts and occupied rooms. In 
the heart of the building he was sensible that the walls and 
very air vibrated to the roar without ; and as the guns in 
the eastern front answered those in the western, he was ad- 
vised momentarily of the direction in which he was proceed- 
ing, and that his friends still maintained the combat. 

Directly three men passed clad in nequen ; they were talk- 
ing earnestly, and scarcely noticed him ; after them came 
another, very old, and distinguished by a green maxtlatl over 
his white tunic, — one of the king’s councillors. 

“ Stay, uncle,” said Hualpa, “ stay ; I have a question 
to ask you.” 

The old man seemed startled. 

“ Who are you ? ” he inquired. 


OVER THE WALL — INTO THE PALACE. 


495 


Hualpa did not appear to hear him, but asked, Is not the 
princess Nenetzin with the king, her father ] ” 

Follow this hall to its end,” replied the ancient, coldly. 
“ She is there, hut not with the king, her father. Who is 
he,” he continued, after a pause, — “ who is he that asks for 
the false princess 1 ” 

With a groan Hualpa passed on. 

The hall ended in a small •patio, which, at sight, declared 
itself a retreat for love. The walls were finished with a con- 
fusion of arabesque moulding, brilliantly and variously 
colored ; the tracery around the open doors and windows was 
a marvel of the art ; there were flowers on the floor, and in 
curious stands, urns, and swinging baskets ; there were also 
delicate vines, and tropical trees dwarfed for the place, 
amongst which one full grown banana lifted its long branches 
of velvet green, and seemed to temper the light with dewy 
coolness ; in the centre, there was a dead fountain. Indeed, 
the patio could have been hut for the one purpose. Here, 
walled in from the cares of empire, where only the day was 
hold enough to come unbidden, the wise Axaya’ and his less 
fortunate successors, Tecociatzin and Avizotl, forgot their 
state, and drank their cups of love, and were as other men. 

Al l the beauty of the place, however, was lost on Hualpa. 
He saw only Nenetzin. She was sitting, at the time, in a 
low sedilium, her white garments faintly tinted by the scarlet 
stripes of a canopy extended high overhead, to protect her 
from the too ardent sun. 

At the sound of his sandals, she started ; and as he ap- 
proached her, she arose in alarm. In sooth, his toilette was 
not that most affected for the wooing of women ; he brought 
with him the odor of battle ; and as he knelt hut a little way 
from her, she saw there was blood upon his hands, and upon 
the axe and shield he laid beside him. 

Who are you 1 ” she asked. 


496 


THE FAIR GOD. 


He took off the steel cap and shapeless panache^ and looked 
up in her face. 

The lord Hualpa ! ” she exclaimed. Then a thought 
flashed upon her mind, and with terror in every feature, she 
cried, “ Ah, you have taken the palace ! And the Tonatiah ? ” 
— she clasped her hands despairingly, — dead ? a captive ? 
Where is he 1 I will save him. Take me to him.” 

At these words, the uncertain expression with which he 
had looked up to her upon baring his head changed to utter 
hopelessness. The hurried sentences tore his heart, lilie 
talons. For this he had come to her through so much 
peril ! For this he was then braving death at her feet ! His 
head sunk upon his breast, and he said, — 

“ The palace is not ours. The Tonatiah yet lives, and is 
free.” 

With a sigh of relief, she resumed her seat, asking, — 

“ How came you here ? ” 

He answered without raising his eyes, The keepers of the 
palace are strong ; they can stay the thousands, but they 
could not keep me out.” 

The face of the listener softened ; she saw his love, and 
all his heroism, but said, coldly, — 

“I have heard that wise men do such things only of 
necessity.” 

“ I do not pretend to wisdom,” he replied. Had I been 
wise, I would not have loved you. Since our parting at 
Chapultepec, where I was so happy, I have thought you 
might be a prisoner here, and in my dreams I have heard 
you call me. And a little while ago, on the temple, I 
said to lo’, ‘ Henetzin will despise me, if I come not soon.' 
Tell me, 0 Henetzin, that you are a prisoner, and I will take 
you away. Tell me that the stories told of you on the 
streets are not true, and — ” 

“ What stories 1 ” she asked. 


OVER THE WALL — INTO THE PALACE. 


497 


“ Alas, that it should he mme to tell them ! And to you, 
Nenetzin, my beautiful ! ” 

"With a strong effort, he put down the feeling, and went 
on, — 

“ There he those who say that the good king, your father, 
is in this prison by your betrayal ; they say, too, that you 
are the keeper of a shrine unknown to the gods of Anahuac ; 
and yet more shamelessly, they say you abide here with the 
Tonatiah, unmindful of honor, father, or gods known or un- 
known. TeU me, 0 Nenetzin, tell me, I pray you, that 
these are the tales of bars. If you cannot he mine, at least 
let me go hence with cause to think you in purity like the 
snow on the mountain -top. My heart is at your feet, — O 
crush me not utterly ! ” 

Thereupon, she arose, with flushed face and flashing eyes, 
never so proud, never so womanly. 

‘‘ Lord Hualpa, were you more or less to me than you are, 
I would make outcry, and have you sent to death. You 
cannot understand me ; yet I will answer — because of the 
love which brought you here, I will answer.” 

She went into a chamber, and returning, held up the iron 
cross, more precious to her, I fear, as the gift of Alvarado 
than as the symbol of Christ. 

“ Look, lord Hualpa ! This speaks to me of a religion 
better than that practised in the temples, and of a God 
mightier than all those known in Anahuac, — a God whom 
it is useless to resist, who may not he resisted, — the only 
God. There, in my chamber, is an altar to Him, upon 
which rests only this cross and such flowers as I can gather 
here in the morning ; that is the shrine of which you have 
heard upon the street. I worship at no other. As to the 
king, I did come and tell the strangers of the attack he 
ordered. Lord Hualpa, to me, as is the destiny of every 
woman, the hour came to choose between love and father. I 


498 


THE FAIR GOD. 


could not else. What harm has come of my choice 1 Is 
not the king safe 1 ” 

At that moment, the noise which had all the time been 
heard in the patio, as of a battle up in the air, swelled 
trebly loud. The tendrils of the vines shook ; the floor 
trembled. 

Hark ! ” she said, with an expression of dread. “Is he 
not safer than that other for whom I forsook him? Yet 
I thought to save them both ; and saved they shall be ! ” she 
added, with a confident smile. “The God I worship can 
save them, and He will.” 

Then she became silent ; and as he could tell by her face 
that she was strugghng with a painful thought, he waited, 
listening intently. At length she spoke, this time with 
downcast eyes : — 

“ It would be very pleasant, 0 Hualpa, to have you go 
away thinking me pure as snow on the mountain-top. And 
if — if I am not, — then in this cross ” — and she kissed the 
symbol tearfuUy — “ there is safety for me. I know there is 
a love that can purify all things.” 

The sensibilities are not alike in all persons ; but it is 
not true, as some philosophers think, that infidels, merely 
because they are such, are incapable of either great joy or 
great grief. The mother of El Chico reviled him because he 
took his last look at Granada through tears ; not less poig- 
nant was the sorrow of Hualpa, looking at his love, by her 
own confession lost to him forever ; his head drooped, and 
he settled down and feU forward upon his face, crushed by 
the breath of a woman, — he whom a hundred shields had 
not sufficed to stay ! 

For a time nothing was heard in the patio but the battle. 
Henetzin stirred not ; she was in the mood superinduced by 
pity and remorse, when the mind merges itself in the heart, 
and is lost in excess of feeling. 


THE WAY THROUGH THE WALL. 


499 


At length the spell was broken. A woman rushed in, 
clapping her hands joyfuUy, and crying, — 

“ Be glad, be glad, 0 Nenetzin ! Malinche has come 
back, and we are saved ! ” 

And more the Dona Marina would have said, but her eyes 
fell upon the fallen man, and she stopped. 

Nenetzin told his story,’ — the story women never tire of 
hearing. 

“If he stays here, he dies,” said Marina, weeping. 

“ He shall not die. I will save him too,” said Henetzin ; 
and she went to him, and took his hands, bloody as they 
were, and, by gentle words, woke him from his stupor. 
Mechanically he took his cap, shield, and mace, and followed 
her, — he knew not whither. 

And she paused not until he was safely delivered to 
Maxtla, in the quarters occupied by the king. 

CHAPTER X. 

THE WAY THROUGH THE WALL. 

A L TEMPLO, al temph / to the temple ! ” shouted 
Cortes, as he charged the close ranks of the enemy. 
“ templo / ” answered the cavaliers, plunging forward in 
chivalric rivalry. 

And from the column behind them rolled the hoarse echo, 
with the words of command superadded, — 

“ templo ! Adelante, adelante I — forward ! 

Hot a Spaniard there but felt the inspiration of the cry; 
felt himself a soldier of Christ, marching to a battle of the 
gods, the true against the false; yet the way was hard, 
harder than ever ; so much so, indeed, that the noon came 


600 


THE FAIR GOD. 


before Cortes at last spurred into the space in front of tbe 
old palace. 

The first object to claim attention there was the temple 
against which the bigotry of the Christians had been so sud- 
denly and shrewdly directed, — shrewdly, because in the 
glory of its conquest the failure of the mantas was certain to 
be forgotten. In such intervals of the fight as he could 
snatch, the leader measured the pile with a view to the 
attack. Standing in his stirrups, he traced out the path to 
its summit, beginning at the gate of the coatapantli, then up 
the broad stairs, and around the four terraces to the azoteas, 
— a distance of nearly a mile, the whole crowded with 
warriors, whose splendid regalia published them lords and 
men of note, in arms to die, if need be, for glory and the 
gods. As he looked, Sandoval rode to him. 

‘‘ Turn thine eyes hither, Senor, — to the palace, the 
palace ! * 

Cortes dropped back into his saddle, and glanced that 
way. 

“ By the Mother of Christ, they have broken through 
the wall ! ” 

He checked his horse. 

“ Escobar,” he said, calmly, through his half-raised visor, 
“ take thou one hundred men, the last in the column, and 
attack the temple. Hearest thou 1 Kill aU thou findest ! 
Kay, I recollect it is a people with two heads, of which I 
have but one. Bring me the other, if thou canst find him. 
I mean the butcher they call the high priest. And more, . 
Senor Alonzo : when thou hast taken the idolatrous moun- 
tain, burn the towers, and fear not to tumble the bloody 
gods into the square. Thy battle will be glorious. On thy 
side God, the Son, and Mother ! Thou canst not fail.” 

“ And thou, Olea,” he added to another, “ get thee 
down the street, and hasten Mesa and his supports. Tell 


THE ’WAY THROUGH THE 'WALL. 


501 


them the infidels are at the door of the palace, and that the 
captain Christobal hath scarce room to lift his axe. And 
further, — as speed is everything now, — bid Ordas out with 
the gun, and fire the manta^ which hath done its work. 
Spare not thy horse ! ” 

With the last word, Cortes shut his visor, and, griping his 
axe, spurred to the front, shouting, — 

“ To the palace, gentlemen ! for love of Christ and good 
comrades. Eescue, rescue ! ” 

Down the column sped the word, — then forward resist- 
lessly, through the embattled gate, into the enclosure ; 
and none too soon, for, as Cortes had said, though at the 
time witless of the truth, the Aztecs were threatening the 
very doors of the palace. 

Escobar, elated with the task assigned him, arranged his 
men, and made ready for the assault. The infidels beheld 
his preparation with astonishment. All eyes, theretofore 
bent upon the conflict in the palace yard, now fixed upon 
the little band so boldly proposing to scale the sacred 
heights. A cry came up the street : “ The Tzin, the ’tzin ! ” 
then the ’tzin himself came ; and as he passed through 
the gate of the coatapantli^ the thousands recognized him, 
and breathed freely. “ The Tzin has come ! The gods are 
safe ! ” so they cheered each other. 

The good captain led his men to the gate of the coatapantli. 
With difficulty he gained entrance. As if to madden the 
infidels, already fired by a zeal as great as his own, the 
dismal thunder of the great drum of Huitzil’ rolled down 
from the temple, overwhelming all other sounds. Slowly he 
penetrated the enclosure; closely his command followed 
him ; yet not all of them ; before he reached the stairway he 
was fighting for, the hundred were but ninety. 

Twenty minutes, — thirty : at last Escobar set his foot on 
the first step of tfie ajjjcent. There he stopped ; a shield of 


502 


THE FAIR GOD. 


iron clashed against his ; his helmet rang with a deadly 
blow. When he saw light again, he was outside the sacred 
wall, borne away by his retreating countrymen, of whom not 
one re-entered the palace unwounded. 

Cortes, meantime, with sword and axe, cleared the palace 
of assailants ; and, as if the day’s work were done, he 
prepared to dismount. Don Christohal, holding his stirrup, 
said, — 

“ Cierto, Senor, thou art welcome. I do indeed kiss thy 
hand. I thank thee.” 

‘‘Not so, captain, not so. By my conscience, we are the 
debtors ! I will hear nothing else. It is true we came not a 
moment too soon,” — he glanced at the breach in the waU, 
and shook his head gravely, — “ hut — I speak what may 
not he gainsaid — thou hast saved the palace.” 

More he would have said in the same strain, hut that a 
sentinel on the roof cried out, — 

“ Ola, Senores / ” 

“ What wouldst thou 'I ” asked Cortes, quickly. 

“ I am an old soldier, Senor Hernan, — ” 

“ To the purpose, varlet, to the purpose ! ” 

“ — whom much experience hath taught not to ex- 
press himself hastily ; therefore, if thy orders were well 
done, Senor, whither would our comrades over the way he 
going 1 ” 

“ To the top of the temple,” said Cortes, gravely, while aU 
around him laughed. 

“ Then I may say safely, Senor, that they will go round 
the world before they arrive there. They come this way fast 
as men can who have to — ” 

A long, exulting cry from the infidels cut the speech short; 
and the party, turning to the temple, saw it alive with 
waving sashes and tossing shields. 

“ To horse, gentlemen ! ” said Cortes, quietly, hut with 


THE WAY THROUGH THE WALL. 


503 


flashing eyes. “ Satan hath ruled yon pile long enough. I 
will now tilt with him. Let the trumpets he sounded ! 
Muster the army ! God’s service hath become our necessity. 
Haste ye ! ” 

Out of the gate, opened to receive Escobar and his bruised 
followers, marched three hundred chosen Christians, with as 
many thousand Tlascalans. In their midst went Olmedo, 
under his gown a suit of armor, in his hand a lance, and on 
that a brazen crucifix. Other ensign there was not. Cortes 
and his cavalry led the column, which was of aU the arms 
except artillery; that remained with De Olid to take care 
of the palace. 

And never was precaution more timely; for hardly had 
the gate closed upon the outgoers, before the good captain 
sent his garrison to the walls, once more menaced by the 
infidels. 

The preparations of Escobar, as we have seen, had been 
under lo’s view ; so the prince, divining the object, drew 
after him a strong support, and hastened to keep the advan- 
tage of the stairways. On one of the eastern teiTaces he met 
the ’tzin ascending. There was hurried salutation between 
them. 

“Look you for Hualpa?” asked lo’, observing the ’tzin 
search the company inquiringly. 

“ Yes. He should be here.” 

The boy’s face and voice fell. 

“ I would he were, good ’tzin. He left me on the azoteas. 
With the look of one who had devoted himself, he embraced 
me. His last words were, ‘ Tell the ’tzin I have gone to make 
for him a way into the palace.’ ” And thereupon lo’ told the 
story through, simply and sorrowfully; at the end the 
listener kissed him, and said, — 

“ I will find the way he made for ma” 

There was a silence, very brief, however, for a burst of 


504 


THE FAIR GOD. 


yells from below warned them of the fight begun. Then the 
tzin, recalled to himself, gave orders. 

“ Care of the gods is mine now. Leave me these friends, 
and go, and with the people at command, bring stones 
and timbers, all you find, and heap them ready for use on 
the terraces at the head of each stairway. Go quickly, so 
may you earn the double blessing of Huitzih and Tezca’ ! ” 

In a little time the ’tzin stood upon the last step of the 
lowest stairway ; nor did he lift hand until Escobar, half 
spent with exertion, confronted him shield to shield. The 
result has been told. 

And then were shown the qualities which, as a fighting 
man, raised the ’tzin above rivalry amongst his people. The 
axe in his hand was but another form of the maquahuitl ; 
and that his shield was of the Christian style mattered 
not, — he was its perfect master. With a joyous cry, he 
rushed upon the arms outstretched to save the fallen captain ; 
played his shield like a shifting mirror ; rose and fell the 
axe, now in feint, now in foil, but always in circles swifter 
than eye could foUow ; striking a victim but once, he amazed 
and dazzled the Spaniards, as in the Moorish wars El Zagel, 
the Moor, amazed and dazzled their fathers. Hor did he 
want support. His followers, inspired by his example, strug- 
gled to keep pace with him. On the flanks poured the masses 
of his countrymen, in blind fury, content if, with their naked 
hands, they could clutch the weapons that slew them. Such 
valor was not to be resisted by the lessening band of 
Christians, who yielded, at first inch by inch, then step by 
step j at length, in disorder, almost in rout, they were driven 
from the sacred enclosure. 

The victory was decided ; the temple was safe, and the 
insult punished ! The air shook with the deep music of the 
drum ; in the streets the companies yelled as if drunk ; the 
temple was beautiful with waving sashes and tossing shields 


THE WAY THROUGH THE WALL. 


505 


and banners ; and on the azoteas of the great pile, in pres- 
ence of the people, the priests appeared and danced their 
dance of triumph, — a horrible saturnalia. The fight had 
been a trial of power between the gods Christian and Aztec, 
and lo, Huitzil’ was master ! 

The 'tzin felt the sweetness of the victory, and his breast 
filled with heroic impulses. Standing in the gate of the 
coatapantlij he saw the breach Hualpa had made in the wall 
enclosing the palace, noticed that the ascent to the base of 
the gorge was easy, and the gorge itself now wide enough 
to admit of the passage of several men side by side. The 
temptation was strong, the possibilities alluring, and he fixed 
his purpose. 

“ It is the way he made for me, and I will tread it. Help 
me, 0 God of my fathers ! ” 

So he resolved, so he prayed. 

And forthwith messengers ran to the chiefs on the four 
sides of the palace with orders for them to pass the wall. 
From the dead Spaniards the armor was stript, and arms 
taken ; and the robbers, fourteen caciques, men notable for 
skill and courage, stood up under cuirass, and helm or 
morion, and with pike and battle-axe of Christian manufac- 
ture, covered, nevertheless, with pagan trappings. 

StiU standing in the gateway, the ’tzin saw the companies 
in the street begin the assault. Swelled their war-cries as 
‘never before, for the inspiration of the victory was upon 
them also ; rattled the tambours, brayed the conchs, danced 
the priests, and from the temple and housetops poured the 
missiles in a darkening cloud. Within his view a hundred 
ladders were planted, and crowded with eager climbers. At 
the gorge of the breach men struggled with each other to 
make the passage first. He called a messenger : — 

“ Take this ring to the prince lo’,” he said. Tell him 
the house of the gods is once more in his care.” Then to 
22 


506 


THE FAIR GOD. 


his chosen caciques he turned, saying, — “ Follow me, 0 
countrymen ! ” 

With that, he walked swiftly to the breach; calm, col- 
lected, watchful, silent, he walked. His companions shouted 
his war-cry. From mouth to mouth it passed, thrilling and 
inspiring, — 

“ Up, up, Tlateloco ! Up, up, over the wall ! The ’tzin 
is with us ! ” 

Meantime the heseiged were not idle ; over the crest of 
the parapet the Tlascalans fought successfully ; through the 
ports and embrasures the Christians kept up their fire of guns 
great and small. Nevertheless, to the breach the ’tzin went 
without stopping. 

“ Clear the way ! ” he cried. 

The guns within made answer ; a shower of blood 
drenched him from head to foot. Except of the dead, the 
way was clear ! A rush through the slippery gorge, — a 
shout, — and he was inside the enclosure, backed by his 
caciques. And as he went in, Cortes passed out, marching 
to storm the temple. 

No doubt or hesitation on the ’tzin’s part now; no look- 
ing about, uncertain what to do, while bowmen and gunners 
made a mark of him. He spoke to his supporters, and with 
them faced to the right, and cleared the banquette of Tlas- 
calans. Over the wall, thus cleared, and through the breach 
leaped his people ; and as they came, the iron shields covered 
them, and they multiplied rapidly. 

About eight hundred Spaniards, chiefly Narvaez’ men, de- 
fended the palace. They fought, but not with the spirit of 
the veterans, and were pushed slowly backward. As they 
retired, wider grew the space of undefended wall ; like waves 
over a ship’s side, in poured the companies ; the Aztecs 
fell by scores, yet they increased by hundreds. 

Again the sick and wounded staggered from their quarters ; 


THE WAY THROUGH THE WALL. 


507 


again De Olid brought his reserves into action ; again the 
volleys shook the palace, and wrapped it in curtains of 
smoke, whiter and softer than bridal veils : still the infidels 
continued to master the walls and the space within. By 
and by the gates fell into their hands ; and then, indeed, all 
seemed lost to the Christians. 

The stout heart of the good Captain Christobal was well 
tempered for the trial. To the windows and lesser entrances 
of the buildings he sent guards, stationing them inside ; then, 
in front of the four great doors, he drew his men back, and 
fought on, so that the palace was literally girt with a belt 
of battle. 

An hour like that I write of seems a long time to a com- 
batant ; on this occasion, however, one there was, not a 
combatant, to whom, possibly, the time seemed much longer. 
In his darkened chamber sat the king, neither speaking nor 
spoken to, though surrounded by his court. He must have 
heard the cries of his people; knowing them so near, in 
fancy, at least, he must have seen their heroism and slaugh- 
ter. Had he no thought in sympathy with them'? no 
prayer for their success 1 no hope for himself even 1 Who 
may answer 'i — so many there are dead in the midst of life. 

At length the ’tzin became weary of the mode of attack, 
which, after all, was but a series of hand-to-hand combats 
along lengthened lines, that might last till night, or, indeed, 
as long as there were men to fill the places of the fallen. 
To the companies crowding the conquered space before the 
eastern front of the palace, he passed an order : a simul- 
taneous forward movement from the rear took place ; the 
intervals between the ranks were closed up ; a moment of 
fusion, — a pressure ; then a welding together of the whole 
mass followed. After that words may not convey the scene. 
The unfortunates who happened to be engaged were first 
pushed, then driven, and finally shot forward, like dead 


508 


THE FAIR GOD. 


weights. Useless all skill, useless strength; the opposite 
lines met ; blood flew as from a hundred fountains ; men, 
impaled on opposing weapons, died, nailed together face to 
face. As the only chance for life, very many feU down, and 
were smothered. 

The defenders broke in an instant. Back, back they 
went, — back to the guns, which, for a time, served as 
breakwaters to the wave; then past the guns, almost to 
the wall, forced there by the awful impetus of the rush. 

The truly great leaders of men are those who, invoking 
storms, stand out and brave them when they come. Such 
was Guatamozin. The surge I have so faintly described 
caught him foremost in the fighting line of his people, and 
flung him upon his antagonists. With his shield he brokft 
the force of the collision ; the cuirass saved him from their 
points ; close wedged amongst them, they could not strike 
him. Tossed like so much drift, backward they went, 
forward he. Numbers of them fell and disappeared. When, 
at last, the impetus of the movement was nigh spent, he 
found himself close by the principal door of the palace. 
But one man stood before him, — a warrior with maquahuitl 
lifted to strike. The ’tzin raised his shield, and caught the 
blow ; then, upon his knee, he looked up, and saw the 
face, and heard the exulting yell, of — Iztlir, the Tezcucan ! 
Whirled the weapon again. The noble Aztec summoned 
aU his spirit ; death glared upon him through the burning 
eyes of his hated rival ; up, clear to vision, rose aU dearest 
things, — gods, country, glory, love. Suddenly the raised arm 
fell ; down dropped the maquahuitl; and upon the shield 
down dropped Iztlil’ himself, carrying the Tzin with him. 

The Tezcucan seemed dead. 

A friendly hand helped the Tzin to liis feet. He was con- 
scious, as he arose, of a strange calm in the air ; the clamoi 
and furious stir of the combat were dying away ; he stood 


THE WAY THROUGH THE WALL. 


509 


in the midst of enemies, but they were still, and did not even 
look at him. A shield not his own covered his breast ; he 
turned, and lo ! the face of Hualpa ! 

“ Whence came you 1 ” asked the ’tzin. 

“ From the palace.” 

Thanks — ” 

** ISTot now, not now,” said Hualpa, in a low voice. The 
gods who permitted me to save you, 0 ’tzin, have not been 
able to save themselves. Look ! to the temple ! ” 

His eyes followed Hualpa's directing finger, and the same 
astonishment that held his enemies motionless around him, 
the same horror that, in the full tide of successful battle, 
had so instantly stayed his countrymen, seized him also. 
He stood transfixed, — a man turned to stone ! 

The towers of the temple were in flames ; and, yet more 
awful, the image of Huitzil,’ rolled to the verge of the 
azoteas, was tottering to its fall ! A thousand hands were 
held ly) instinctively, — a groan, — a long cry, — and down 
the stairway and terraces, grinding and crashing, thundered 
the idol. Tezca’ followed after, and the sacrificial stone ; 
then the religion of the Aztecs was ended forever. 

As if to assure the great fact, when next the spectators 
raised their eyes to the azoteas, lo ! Olmedo and his crucifix ! 
The faithful servant of Christ had performed his mission ; 
he had burst the last gate, and gained the last mountain in 
the way ; and now, with bared head, and face radiant with 
sublime emotion, he raised the symbol of salvation high 
up in view of all the tribes, and, in the name of his Master, 
and for his Master’s Church, forever, by that simple ceremony, 
took possession of the Hew World. 

And marvellous to relate further, the tribes, awed if not 
conquered, bowed their heads in peace. Even the com- 
panies in the palace-yard marched out over their dead, and 
gave up the victory so nearly won. Guatamozin and Hualpa 


510 


THE FAIK GOD. 


followed them, but with their faces to the foe. Heedless 
the defiance : as they went, not a word was spoken, not a 
hand lifted. For the time, all was peace. 


CHAPTEE XI 


BATTLE IN THE AIR. 


S Cortes, at the head of his column, drew near the gate 



of the coatapantliy he saw the inclosure and the ter- 
races on that side of the temple occupied by warriors, and 
the edge of the azoteas above lined with pabas, chanting in 
dismal harmony with the deep music of the great drum. 
Ensigns and symbols of unknown meaning, and rich regalia 
pranked the dull gray faces of the pile with holiday splen- 
dors. Little note, however, gave he to the beautiful effect. 

“ God helping us,” he said to his cavaliers, — and with such 
gravity that they knew him unusually impressed with the 
task before them, — God helping us, gentlemen, we will do 
a deed now that hath no likeness in the wars of men. Com- 
mend we ourselves each, and all who follow us, to the holy 
Christ, who cometh yonder on the staff of Father Olmedo.” 

So saying, he reversed his sword, and carried the crossed 
handle softly and reverently to the bars of his hehnet, and 
all who heard him did likewise. 

In front of the gate, under a shower of arrows, he stopped 
to adjust the armlets of his shield, for his hand was yet sore ; 
then, settling in his saddle again, he spurred his horse 
through the entrance into the enclosure. 

Eight into the mass waiting to receive him he broke, 
and whom his sword left untouched the trained steed bore 
down. After him charged the choicest spirits of the con* 


BATTLE IN THE AIR. 


511 


quest, animated with generous rivalry and the sublime idea 
that this time the fight was for God and His Church. And 
so, with every thrust of sword and every plunge of horse, 
out rang their cries. 

“ On, on, for love of Christ ! Death to the infidels ! Down 
with the false gods ! ” 

On the side of the infidels there was no yielding, for the 
ground was holy ground to them. When their frail weapons 
were broken, they fiung themselves empty-handed upon the 
nearest rider, or under the horses, and, dying even, tried to 
hold fast locked the hoofs that heat them to death. In their 
aid, the pavement became heaped with bodies, and so slippery 
with blood that a number of the horses fell down ; and, in 
such cases, if the rescue came not quickly they and their 
riders were lost. Indeed, so much did this peril increase 
that Cortes, when his footmen were fairly in the yard, dis- 
mounted the horsemen the better to wage the fight. 

At length resistance ceased : the inclosure was won. The 
marble floor bore awful evidences of the prowess of one party 
and the desperation of the other. 

The Christians took up their wounded, and carried them 
tenderly to the shade, for the sun blazed down from the 
cloudless sky. 

Around Cortes gathered the captains, resting themselves. 

“ The Tlascalans must hold the yard,” he said, weU pleased, 
and with raised visor. ^‘That charge I commit to thee, 
Lugo.” 

Lugo bared his face, and said, sullenly, — 

Thou knowest, Senor, that I am accustomed to obey thee 
questionless ; but this liketh me not. I — ” 

By the love of Christ — ” 

^^Even so, Senor,” said Lugo, interrupting him in turn. 

“ I feel bidden by love of Christ to go up, and help cast 
down the accursed idols.” 


512 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The face of the crafty leader changed quickly. 

“ Ola^ father ! ” he said. “ Here is one malcontent, be- 
cause I would have him stay and take care of us while we 
climb the stairways. What say’st thou ? ” 

Olmedo answered solemnly, “ What ye have in mind 
now, Senores, — the disgrace of the false gods who abide 
in this temple of abominations, — is what hath led us 
here. And now that tho end is at hand, the least cir- 
cumstance is to be noted j for the wise hear God as often 
in the small voice as in the thunder. Doubt not, doubt 
not; the prompting of the good captain is from Him. 
Be this lower duty to the imassoilzied Tlascalans : go 
we as the love of Christ calleth. Verily, he who doeth this 
work well, though his sins be many as the sands of the sea, 
yet shall he become as purity itself, and be blessed forever. 
Take thy measures quickly, Senor, and let us be gone.” 

“ Amen, amen ! ” said the cavaliers ; and Cortes, crossing 
himself, hastened in person to make dispositions for the fur- 
ther emprise. 

The Tlascalans he set to hold the coatapantli from attack 
without. To the arquebusiers and cross-bowmen he gave 
orders to cover him with their fire wliile he climbed the 
stairways and was driving the enemy around the terraces. 
When the azoteas was gained, they were to ascend, and take 
part in the crowning struggle for the sanctuaries. The cav- 
alry, already dismounted, were to go with him in the assault. 
To the latter, upon rejoining them, he said, — 

“ In my judgment, gentlemen, the fighting we go to now is 
of the kind wherein the sword is better than axe or lance ; 
therefore, put away all else.” 

He took place at the head, with Alvarado and Sandoval 
next him in the column. 

“ And thou, father % ” he asked. 

OLmedo raised his crucifix, and, looking up, said, — 


BATTLE IN THE AIR. 


613 


“ Hagase tu voluntad en la tierra asi como en el cielo^ * 
Then to Cortes, “ I will follow these, my children.” 

“ Forward, then ! Christ with us, and all the saints ! ” 
cried Cortes. Adelante / Christo y Santiago ! ” 

In a moment they were swiftly climbing the lower stair- 
way of the temple. 

Meantime lo’, from the azoteas, kept watch on the combats 
below. Two figures charmed his gaze, — that of Cortes and 
that of the ’tzin, — both, in their separate ways, moving for- 
ward slowly hut certainly. Before he thought of descending, 
the Christians were in the precinct of the coatapantli, and 
after them streamed the long line of Tlascalans. 

As we have seen, the prince had been in battles, and more 
than once felt the joyous frenzy nowhere else to he found ; 
hut now a dread fell upon him. Did Malinche’s dream of 
conquest reach the gods 1 Again and again he turned to 
the sanctuaries, hut the divine wrath came not forth, — only 
the sonorous throbs of the drum. Once he went into 
the presence chamber, which was full of kneeling pabas. 
The teotuctli stood before the altar praying. lo’ joined in the 
invocation ; hut miracle there was not, neither was there 
help ; for when he came out, all the yard around the temple 
was Mahnche’s. 

Then lo’ comprehended that this attack, unlike Escobar’s, 
was of method ; for the ways of succor, which were also those 
of retreat, were all closed. The supreme trial had come 
early in his career. His spirit arose ; he saw himself the 
stay of the religion of his fathers; the gods leaned upon 
him. On the roof and terraces were some two thousand 
warriors, the fighting children of the valley : Tezcucans, 
with countless glorious memories to sustain their native 
pride ; Cholulans, eager to avenge the sack of their city and 
the massacre of their countrymen -; Aztecs, full of the 

* Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. 

22 * O o 


514 


THE FAIR GOD. 


superiority of race, and the inspiration of ages of empire. 
They would fight to the last man. He could trust them, as the 
’tzin had trusted him. The struggle, moreover, besides being 
of special interest on account of its religious character, would 
be in mid-air, with the strangers and all the tribes and com- 
panies as witnesses. So, with his caciques, he went down 
to the landing at the top of the lower stairway. 

A yell saluted Cortes when, at the head of the cavaliers, 
he appeared on the steps, and, sword in hand and shield over- 
head, commenced the perilous ascent. At the same time 
javelins and spears began to rain upon the party from the 
first terrace. Up they hurried. Half the height was gained 
and not a man hurt, — not a foot delayed ! Then, slowly 
at first, but with longer leaps and increasing force, a block 
of stone was started down the stairs. Fortunately, the 
steps were broad, having been built for the accommodation of 
processions. Down sped a warning cry ; down as swiftly 
plunged the danger. Olmedo saw three figures of men in 
iron follow it headlong to the bottom ; fast they fell, but not 
too fast for his words of absolution ; before the victims 
touched the pavement, their sins were forgiven, and their 
souls at rest in Paradise. 

The stones and timbers placed on the landing by the ’tzin’s 
order were now laid hold of, and rolled and dragged to the 
steps and hurled down. Thus ten Christians more were 
slain. Even Cortes, deeming escape impossible, turned his 
battle-cry into a prayer, and not in vain ! From below, the 
arquebusiers and cross-bowmen suddenly opened fire, which 
they kept so close that, on the landing, the dead and 
wounded speedily outnumbered the living. 

The saints are with us ! Forward, swords of the Church! ” 
cried Cortes. 

Before the infidels recovered from their panic, he passed 
the last step, and stood upon the terrace. And there, first 


BATTLE IN THE AIR. 


515 


ill front of him, first to meet him, was lo’, whom pride and 
zeal would not permit to retire. 

The meeting — combat it can hardly be called — was very 
brief. The blades of lo’s maquahuitl broke at the first blow. 
Cortes replied with a thrust of the sword, — quick, but true, 
riving both the shield and the arm. A cacique dragged 
the hapless boy out of reach of the second thrust, and took 
his place before the conqueror. 

The terrace so hardly gained was smoothly paved, and wide 
enough for ten men to securely walk abreast ; on the outer side 
there was no railing or guard of any kind, nothing but a 
descent of such height as to make a fall certainly fatal. 
Four times the smooth, foot-worn pavement extended around 
the temple, broken in its course by six grand stairways, the 
last of which landed on the azoteaSy one hundred and fifty 
feet above the level of the street. Such was the highway 
of the gods, up which the adventurous Christians essayed to 
march, fighting. 

“ To my side, Sandoval ! And ye, Alvarado, Morla, 
Lugo, Ordas, Duero, — to my side ! ” said Cortes, defending 
himself the while. “ Make with me a line of shields across 
the way. Let me hear your voices. No battle-cry here but 
Christ and St. James ! When ye are ready, shout, that I 
may hear ye ! ” 

One by one the brave gentlemen took their places ; then 
rose the cry, “ Christo y Santiago ! Christo y Santiago / ” 

And then the voice of Cortes, — 

“ Forward, my friends ! Push the dogs ! No quarter ! 
Christo y Santiago / ” 

Behind the line of shields moved the other cavaliers, 
eager to help when help should be needed. 

And then were shown the excellences of the sword in a 
master’s hand. The best shields of the infidels could not bar 
its point j it overcame resistance so quietly that men fell, 


516 


THE FAIR GOD. 


wounded, or slain outright, before they thouglit tliemselves 
in danger ; it won the terrace, and so rapidly that the Chris- 
tians were themselves astonished. 

“ companeros said Cortes, who in the fiercest 
mUee was still the watchful captain. “ Ola! Yonder riseth 
the second stairway. That the heathen may not use the 
vantage against us, keep we close to this pack. On their 
heels ! Closer ! ” 

So they mounted the steps of the second stairway, fight- 
ing ; and the crowd which they kept between them and the 
enemy on the landing Avas a better cover even than the fire 
of the bowmen and arquebusiers. And so the terraces Avere 
all taken. Of the eight other Christians Avho fell under 
the stones and logs rolled upon them from the heights 
above, two lived long enough to be shrived by the faithful 
Olmedo. 

The azotean of the temple has been already described as a 
broad, paved area, unobstructed except by the sacrificial 
stones and the sanctuaries of Huitzil’ and Tezca’. A more 
dreadful place for battle cannot be imagined. The coming 
and going of worshippers, singly or in processions, and of 
barefooted pabas, to Avhom the dizzy height was all the world, 
had worn its surface smooth as furbished iron. If, as the 
combat rolled sloAvly around the terraces, rising higher, and 
nearer the chiefs and Avarriors on the summit, — if, in faint- 
ness of heart or hope, they looked for a Avay of escape, the 
sky and the remote horizon were all they saAV : escape Avas 
impossible. 

With many others disabled by Avounds, lo’ ascended to 
the azoteas in advance of the fight ; not in despair, but as 
the faithful might, never doubting that, when the human 
effort failed, Huitzil’, the Omnipotent, would defend himself. 
He passed through the ranks, and with brave words encour- 
aged the common resolve to conquer or die. Stopping upon 


BATTLE IN THE AIR. 


Sir 


the western verge, he looked down upon the palace, and lo ! 
there was a rest in the assault, except where the ’tzin fought, 
with his back to the temple ; and the thousands were stand- 
ing stiU, their faces upturned, — each where the strange 
truce found him, — to beliold the hunted gods in some 
majestic form at last assert their divinity. So lo’ knew, by 
the whisperings of his own faith. 

Again he turned prayerfully to tlie sanctuaries. At that 
instant Cortes mounted the last step of the last stairway, — 
after him the line of shields, and all the cavaliers, — after 
them again, Olmedo with his crucifix ! Then was wrought 
an effect, simple enough of itself, but so timely that the 
good man — forgetful that the image of Christ dead on the 
cross is nothing without the story of his perfect love and sor- 
rowful death — found believers when he afterwards proclaimed 
it a miracle. He held the sacred efhgy up to be seen by all 
the infidels ; they gazed at it as at a god mifriendly to their 
gods, and waited in awe for the beginning of a struggle be- 
tween the divine rivals ; and while they waited, Cortes and 
his cavaliers perfected their formation upon the azoteas, and 
the bowmen and arquebusiers began to climb the second 
stairway of the ascent. The moment of advantage was lost 
to the Aztecs, and they paid the penalty. 

lo’ waited with the rest ; from crucifix to sanctuary, and 
sanctuary to crucifix, he turned ; yet the gods nursed their 
power. At last he awoke ; too late ! there was no escape. 
Help of man was not possible, and the gods seemed to have 
abandoned him. 

“ Tezcuco ! Cholula ! Tenochtitlan ! Up, up, Tlateloco, 
up!” 

Over the azoteas his words rang piercing clear, and through 
the ranks towards the Christians he rushed. The binding 
of the spell was broken. Shook the banners, pealed war-cry, 
conch, and atabal, — and the battle was joined. 


518 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ Hold fast until our brethren come ; then shall our swords 
drink their fill ! Christo y Santiago ! ” 

Never was the voice of Cortes more confident. 

Need, nevertheless, had the cavaliers for all their strength 
and skill, even the nicest cunning of fence and thrust. 
Every joint of their harness was searched by javelin and 
spear, and the clang of maquahuitls against the faces of their 
shields was as the noise of a thousand armeros at work. The 
line swayed and bent before the surge, now yielding, now 
recovering, at times ready to break, and then — death awaited 
them all on the terraces below. For life they plied their 
swords, — no, not for life alone; behind them to and fro 
strode Olmedo. 

“ Strike, and spare not ! ” he cried. “ Lo, the gates of hell 
yonder, but they shall not prevail. Strike for Holy Church, 
whose swords ye are ! For Holy Cross, and room to worship 
above the Baals of heathendom ! For glory here, and eternal 
life hereafter ! ” 

So he cried as he strode ; and the crucifix on his lance 
and the saintly words on his lips were better than trumpets, 
better than a hundred Cids in reserve. 

The great drum, which had been for a while silent, at this 
juncture burst out again ; and still more to inflame the in- 
fidels, forth from the sanctuaries the pabas poured, and dis- 
persed themselves, leaping, dancing, singing, through the 
ranks. Doubtless they answered the Christian priest, 
promise for promise, and with even greater effect ; the calm 
and self-possessed among their people became zealots, and 
the zealots became frantic madmen. 

At last the bowmen and arquebusiers appeared upon the 
scene. When Cortes saw them, — their line formed, matches 
lighted, bows drawn, — he drew out of the combat to give 
them directions. 

“ Viva compaueros ! ” he said, with a vivacity peculiar to 


BATTLE IN THE AIR. 


519 


himself, “ I bid ye welcome. The temple and its keepers 
are ours. We with swords will now go forward. Keep ye 
the stairway, and take care of our flanks. Ply your bolts, 
— ply them fast, — and spare not a cur in the kennel ! ” 

They made no answer, spake not a word. Stolidly, grimly 
they gazed at him under their morions ; they knew their 
duty, and he knew them. Once more he turned to the 
light. 

“To the sanctuaries ! ” he shouted, to the cavaliers. “We 
have come for the false gods : let us at them. Charge, 
gentlemen, Christ with us ! Porward all ! ” 

Back came their response, “ Forward ! Christo y San- 
tiago ! ” 

They advanced their shields suddenly ; the play of theii 
swords redoubled ; the weapons in front of them splintered 
like reeds ; war-cries half uttered turned to screams ; under 
foot blood ran like water, and feathered panoply anrl 
fallen men, dying and dead, blotted out the pavement. 
Surprised, bewildered, baffled, the bravest of the infidels 
perished; the rest gave way or were pushed helplessly 
back ; and the dismay thus excited rose to panic when the 
bowmen and arquebusiers joined in the combat. A horrible 
confusion ensued. Hundreds threw away their arms, and 
ran wildly around the azoteas ; some flung themselves from 
the height ; some climbed the sanctuaries ; some took to 
piteous imploration of the doomed idols ; others, in blind 
fury, rushed empty-handed upon the dripping swords. 

Steadily, as a good craft divides the current and its eddies, 
Cortes made way to the sanctuaries, impatient to possess the 
idols, that, at one blow, he might crush the faith they repre- 
sented ; after which he made no doubt of the submission of 
the nations in arms. ^ A rare faculty that which, in the heat 
of battle, can weave webs of policy, and in the mind’s ey» 
trace out lines of wise conduct. 


620 


THE PAIR GOD. 


When, at last, the end was nigh, such of the pabas as 
survived withdrew themselves from the delirious mob, and 
assembled around the sacrificial stones. Some of them were 
wounded ; on many the black gowns hung in shreds ; all 
of them had one purpose more, usually the last to linger 
in an enthusiast’s heart. There, where they had witnessed 
so many sacrifices, and, in eager observance of auguries, 
overlooked or savagely enjoyed the agony of the victims, 
they came themselves to die, — there the sword found them ; 
and from their brave, patient death we may learn that Satan 
hath had his martyrs as well as Christ. 

About the same time another body collected in the space 
before the presence chamber of Huitzil’. They were the 
surviving caciques, with lo’ in their midst. Having borne 
him out of the fray, they now took up a last position to de- 
fend him and the gods. 

Upon them also the battle had laid a heavy hand ; most 
of them were hurt and bleeding ; of their beautiful regalia 
only fragments remained ; some were without arms of any 
kind, some bore headless javelins or spears ; a few had 
maquahuitls. Not a word was spoken : they, too, had come 
to die, and the pride of their race forbade repining. 

They saw the last of the pabas fall ; then the rapacious 
swords, to complete the work, came to them. In the front 
strode Cortes. His armor shone brightly, and his shield, 
though spotted with blood, was as a mirror from which the 
sun’s rays shot, like darts, into the eyes of the infidels at- 
tracted by its brightness. 

Suddenly, three warriors, unarmed, rushed upon him ; his 
sword passed through one of them ; the others caught him 
in their arms. So quick, so bold and desperate was the 
action that, before he could resist or his captains help him^ 
he was lifted from his feet and borne away. 

Help, gentlemen ! Kescue ! he cried. 


BATTLE IN THE AIR. 


521 


Forward sprang Sandoval, forward Alvarado, forward 
the whole line. The caciques interposed themselves. Played 
the swords then never so fast and deadly, — still the wall of 
men endured. 

Cortes with all his armor was a cumbrous burthen ; yet 
the warriors bore him swiftly toward the verge of the azotem. 
]J^o doubt of their purpose : fair and stately were the halls 
awaiting them in the Sun, if they but took the leap with 
him ! He struggled for life, and called on the saints, and 
vowed vows ; at the last moment, one of them stumbled 
and fell ; thereupon he broke away, regained his feet, and 
slew them both. 

In the door of the sanctuary of Huitzil’, meantime, lo’ 
stood, biding the sure result of the unequal struggle. Again 
and again he had striven to get to the enemy ; but the de- 
voted caciques closed their circle against him as compactly 
as against them. Hearer shone the resistless blades, — nearer 
the inevitable death. The rumble and roar of the drum 
poured from the chamber in mighty throbs ; at times he 
caught glimpses of the azoteas strewn with bloody wreck ; a 
sense of the greatness of the calamity seized him, followed 
by the sullen calm which, in brave men dying, is more an 
accusation of fate than courage, resignation, or despair ; up- 
on his faculties came a mist ; he shouted the old war-cry of 
the 'tzin, and scarcely heard himself ; the loves and hopes 
that had made his young life beautiful seemed to rise up and 
fly away, not in the air-line of birds, but with the slow, 
eccentric flight of star-winged butterflies ; then the light 
faded and the sky darkened ; he reeled and staggered, but 
while falling, felt himself drawn into the presence chamber, 
and looking up saw the face of the teotuctli, and heard the 
words, “ I loved your father, and he loved the god, who 
may yet save us. Come, come ! ” The loving hands took 
off his warlike trappings, and covering him with the frock 


522 


THE FAIR GOD. 


of a paba set him on the step of the altar at the feet of 
the god ; then the darkness became perfect, and he knew 
no more. 

Directly there was a great shout within the chamber, 
blent with the clang of armor and iron-shod feet ; the teo^ 
tuctli turned, and confronted Olmedo, with Cortes and the 
cavaliers. 

The Christian priest dropped his lance to the floor, threw 
back his cowl, raised his visor, and pointing to the crucifix 
gazed proudly into the face of the infidel pontiff, who an- 
swered with a look high and scornful, as became the first 
and last servant of a god so lately the ruler of the universe. 
And while they faced each other, the beating of the drum 
ceased, and the clamor stilled, until nothing was heard but 
the breathing of the conquerors, tired with slaughter. 

Then Cortes said, — 

“ Glory to Christ, whose victory this is ! Thou, father, art 
his priest, let thy will be done. _ Speak ! ” 

Olmedo turned to that quarter of the chamber where, by 
permission of Montezuma, a Christian shrine and cross had 
been erected : shrine and cross were gone ! Answered he 
then, — 

“Tlie despoiler hath done his work. Vengeance is mine, 
saith the Lord. Take this man,” pointing to the teotuctli, 
“and bind him, and lead him hence.” 

Alvarado stepped forward, and took off the massive silver 
chain which he habitually wore twice encircling his neck, 
and falling down low over his breast-plate ; with it he 
bound the wrists of the prisoner, who once, and once only, 
cast an appealing glance up to the stony face of the idol. 
As they started to lead him off, his eyes fell upon lo’ ; 
by a sign and look of pity, he directed their attention 
to the boy. 

“ He is not dead,” said Sandoval, after examination. 


BATTLE IN THE AIR. 


523 


“Take him hence, also,” Olrnedo ordered. “At leisure 
to-morrow we can learn what importance he hath.” 

Hardly were the captives out when the chamber be- 
came a scene of wild iconoclasm. The smoking censers 
were overthrown; the sculpturings on the walls were de- 
faced ; the altar was rifled of the rich accumulation of gifts ; 
fagots snatched from the midying fires in front of the sanc- 
tuaries were applied to the carved and gilded wood-work ; 
and amid the smoke, and with shouting and laughter and 
the noisy abandon of school -boys at play, the zealots de- 
spoiled the gigantic image of its ornaments and treasure, — 
of the bow and golden arrows in its hands ; the feathers of 
humming birds on its left foot; the necklace of gold and 
silver hearts ; the serpent enfolding its waist in coils glisten- 
ing with pearls and precious stones. A hundred hands then 
pushed the monster from its sitting-place, and rolled it out 
of the door, and Anally ofi“ the azoteas. Tezca’ shared the 
same fate. The greedy flames mounted to the towers, and 
soon not a trace of the ages of horrible worship remained, 
except the smoking walls of the ruined sanctuaries. 

Down from the heights marched the victors; into the 
palace they marched ; and not a hand was raised against 
them on the way ; the streets were almost deserted. 

“ Bien 1 ” said Cortes, as iie dismounted once more in 
front of his quarters. “ Mi^y hien ! We have their king 
and chief-priests ; we have burned their churches, disgraced 
their gods, and slain their nobles by the thousand. The war 
is over, gentlemen ; let us to our couches. AYelcome rest ! 
welcome peace ! ” 

And the weary army, accepting his words as verity, went 
to rest, though the sun flamed in the brassy sky ; but rest 
there was not ; ere dreams could follow slumber, the trum- 
pets sounded, and the battle was on again, fiercer than ever. 

The sun set, and the night came; then the compa.uies 


624 


THE FAIR GOD. 


thought to rest ; but Cortes, made tireless by rage, went out 
after them, and burned a vast district of houses. 

And the flames so filled the sky with brilliance that the 
sun seemed to have stood still just below the horizon. 

During the lurid twilight, Olmedo laid away, in shallow 
graves dug for them in the palace-garden, more than fifty 
Christians, of whom six and forty perished on the temple 
and its terraces. 


CHAPTER XII. 


IN THE INTERVAL OP THE BATTLE LOVE. 

HE chinampa, at its anchorage, swung lightly, like an 



-J- Indian cradle pendulous in the air. Over it stooped the 
night, its wings of darkness brilliant with the plumage of 
stars. The fire in the city kindled by Cortes still fitfully 
reddened the horizon in that direction, — a direful answer 
to those who, remembering the sweetness of peace in the 
beautiful valley, prayed for its return with the morning. 

Yeteve, in the hammock, had lulled herself into the sleep 
of dreams; while, in the canoe, Hualpa and the oarsmen 
slept the sleep of the warrior and laborer, — the sleep too 
deep for dreams. Only Tula and the ’tzin kept vigils. 

Just outside the canopy, in sight of the meridian stars, 
and where the night winds came sighing through the thicket 
of flowers, a petate had been spread for them; and now 
she listened, while he, lying at length, his head in her lap, 
talked of the sorrowful time that had befallen. 

He told her of the mantas, and their destruction ; of how 
Hualpa had made way to the presence of Henetzin, and 
how she had saved his life ; and as the narrative went on, 
the listener’s head drooped low over the speaker’s face, and 


IN THE INTERVAL OF THE BATTLE — LOVE. 


525 


there were sighs and tears which might have been appor- 
tioned between the lost sister and the unhappy lover ; he told 
of the attack upon the palace, and of the fall of Izthr, and 
how, when the victory was won, Malinche flung the gods 
from the temple, and so terrified the companies that , they 
fled. 

“ Then, 0 Tula, my hopes fell down. A people without 
gods, broken in spirit, and with duty divided between two 
kings, are but grass to be trodden. And lo,’ — so young, 
so brave, so faithful — ” 

He paused, and there was a long silence, devoted to the 
prince’s memory. Then he resumed, — 

In looking out over the lake, you may have noticed that 
the city has been girdled with men in canoes, — an army, 
indeed, unaffected by the awful spectacle of the overthrow 
of the gods. I brought them up, and in their places sent 
the companies that had failed me. So, as the sun went 
down, I was able to pour fresh thousands upon Malinche. 
How I rejoiced to see them pass the wall with Hualpa, and 
grapple with the strangers ! All my hopes came back again. 
That the enemy fought feebly was not a fancy. Watching, 
wounds, battle, and care have wrought upon them. They 
are wasting away. A little longer, — two days, — a day 
even, — patience, sweetheart, patience ! ” 

There was silence again, — the golden silence of lovers, 
under the stars, hand-in-hand, dreaming. 

The ’tzin broke the spell to say, in lower tones and with 
longer intervals, — 

Men must worship, 0 Tula, and there can be no worship 
without faith. So I had next to renew the sacred fire and 
restore the gods. The first was easy : I had only to start a 
flame from the embers of the sanctuaries ; the fire that 
burned them was borrowed from that kept immemorially on 
the old altars. The next duty was harder. The images 


526 


THE FAIR GOD. 


were not of themselves more estimable than other stones ; 
neither were the jewels that adorned them more precious 
than others of the same kind : their sanctity was from faith 
alone. The art of arts is to evoke the faith of men : make 
me, 0 sweetheart, make me master of that art, and, as the ' 
least of possibilities, I will make gods of things least godly. 
In the places where they had fallen, at the foot of the 
temple, I set the images up, and gave each an altar, with 
censers, holy fire, and all the furniture of worship. By and 
by, they shall be raised again to the azoteas ; and when we 
renew the empire, we will build for them sanctuaries richer 
even than those of Cholula. If the faith of our people 
demand more, then — ” 

He hesitated. 

Then, what ? ” she asked. 

He shuddered, and said lower than ever, I will unseal 
the caverns of Quetzal’, and, — more I cannot answer now.” 

The influence of Mualox was upon him yet. 

“ And if that fail 'i ” she persisted. 

Not until the stars at the time overhead had passed and 
been succeeded by others as lustrous, did he answer, — 

“ And if that fail '1 Then we will build a temple, — one 
without images, — a temple to the One Supreme God. So, 
O Tula, shall the prophecy of the king, your father, be ful- 
filled in our day.” 

And with that up sprang a breeze of summery warmth, 
lingering awhile to wanton with the tresses of the willow, 
and swing the flowery island half round the circle of its 
anchorage ; and from the soothing hand on his forehead, 
or the reposeful motion of the chinampaj the languor of 
sleep stole upon his senses ; yet recollection of the battle 
and its cares was hard to be put away : — 

“ I should have told you,” he said, in a vanishing voice, 

“ that when the companies abandoned us, I went first to see 


THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 


527 


our uncle, the lord Cuitlahua. The guards at the door re- 
fused me admittance ; the king was sick, they said.” 

A tremor shook the hand on his forehead, and larger grew 
the great eyes bending over him. 

“ Did they say of w'hat he was sick 'I ” she asked. 

“ Of the plague.” 

‘‘ And what is that ] ” 

“ Death,” he answered, and next moment fell asleep. 

Over her heart, to hush the loudness of its beating, she 
clasped her hands ; for out of the chamber of the almost 
forgotten, actual as in life, stalked Mualox, the paba, saying, 
as once on the temple he said, “You shall be queen in your 
father’s palace.” She saw his beard of fleecy white, and his 
eyes of mystery, and asked herself again and again, “Was 
he indeed a prophet ^ ” 

And the loving child and faithful subject strove hard to 
hide from the alluring promise, for in its way she descried 
two living kings, her father and her uncle ; but it sought her 
continually, and found her, and at last held her as a dream 
holds a sleeper, — held her until the stars heralded the 
dawn, and the ’tzin awoke to go back to the city, back to 
<ihe battle. — from love to battle. 

CHAPTEE XIII. 

THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 

“ T EAYE the city, now so nearly won ! Surely, father, 

. J-J surely thou dost jest with me ! ” 

So Cortes said as he sat in his chamber, resting his arm 
on the table, the while Olmedo poured cold water on his 
wounded hand. 


528 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The father answered without lifting his face, — 

‘‘ Go, I say, that we may come back assured of holding 
what we have won.” 

Sayest thou so, — thou ! By my conscience, here are 
honor, glory, empire ! Abandon them, and the treasure, 
a part of which, as thou knowest, I have already ac- 
counted to his Majesty 1 No, no ; not yet, father ! I 
cannot — though thou may’st — forget what Velasquez 
and my enemies, the velveted minions of the court, would 
say.” 

^‘Then it is as I feared,” said Olmedo, suspending his 
work, and tossing his hood farther back on his shoulders. 
“ It is as I feared. The good judgment which hath led us 
so far so well, and given riches to those who care for riches, 
and planted the Cross over so many heathen temples is, at 
last, at fault.” 

The father’s manner was solemn and reproachful. Cortes 
turned to him inquiringly. 

“ Senor, thou knowest I may be trusted. Heed me. I 
speak for Christ’s sake,” continued Olmedo. “ Leave the 
city we must. There is not corn for two days more ; the 
army is worn down with wounds and watching; scarcely 
canst thou thyself hold an axe; the men of Narvaez are 
mutineers; the garden is fuU of graves, and it hath been 
said of me that, for want of time, I have shorn the burial 
service of essential Catholic rites. And the enemy, Senor, 
the legions that broke through the wall last evening, were 
new tribes for the first time in battle. Of what effect on 
them were yesterday’s defeats'? The gods tumbled from 
the temple have their altars and worship already. Thou 
may’st see them from the central turret.” 

The good man was interrupted. Sandoval appeared at the 
door. 

Come,” said Cortes, impatiently. 


THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 


529 


The captain advanced to the table, and saluting, said, in 
his calm, straightforward way, — 

“ The store for the horses is out ; we fed them to-night 
from the rations of the men. I gave Motilla half of mine, 
and yet she is hungry.” 

At these words, the hand Olmedo was nursing closed, 
despite its wound, as upon a sword-hilt, vice-like, and up the 
master arose, brow and cheek gray as if powdered with ashes, 
and began to walk the floor furiously ; at last he stopped 
abruptly : — 

“ Sandoval, go bid the captains come. I would have their 
opinions as to what we should do. Omit none of them. 
Those who say nothing may be witnesses hereafter.” 

The order was given quietly, with a smile even. A moment 
the cayAain studied his leader’s face, and I would not say 
he did not understand the meaning of the simple words ; 
for of him Cortes afterwards said, “ He is fit to command 
great armies.” 

Cortes sat down, and held out the hand for Olmedo’s min- 
istrations ; but the father touched him caressingly, and said, 
when Sandoval was gone, — 

“ I commend thee, son, with all my soul. Men are never 
no much on trial as when they stand face to face with neces- 
sity ; the weak fight it, and fall; the wise accept it as a 
servant. So do thou now.” 

Cortes’ countenance became chill and sullen. “ I cannot 
see the necessity — ” 

“ Good ! ” exclaimed Olmedo. “ Whatsoever thou dost, 
hold fast to that. The captains will tell thee otherwise, . 
but — ” 

» “What?” asked Cortes, with a sneer. “The treasure is 
vast, — a million pesos or more. Dost thou believe they will 
go and leave it ? ” 

But Olmedo was intent upon his own thought. 

23 


H H 


530 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Mira ! ” he said. “ If the captains say there is a neces- 
sity, do thou put in thy denial ; stand bn thy opinion boldly ; 
and when thou givest up, at last, yield thee to that other 
necessity, the demand of the army. And so — ” 

“ And so,” Cortes said with a smile, which was also a 
sneer, “ and so thou wouldst make a servant of one necces- 
sity by invoking another.” 

Yes ; another which may be admitted without danger or 
dishonor. Thou hast the idea, my son.” 

“ So he it, so be it, — aguardamonos ! ” 

Thereupon Cortes retired within him^lf, and the father 
began again to nurse the wounded hand. 

And by and by the chamber was filled with captains, sol- 
diers, and caciques, whose persons, darkly visible in the 
murky light, testified to the severity of the situation : rusted 
armor, ragged apparel, faded trappings, bandaged limbs, 
countenances heavy with anxiety, or knit hard by suffering, 

— such were the evidences. • 

In good time Cortes arose. 

‘‘ Ola, my friends,” he said, bluntly. “ I have heard that 
there are among ye many who think the time come to give 
the city, and all we have taken, hack to the infidels. I have 
sent for ye that I may know the truth. As the matter con- 
cerneth interests of our royal master aside from his dominion, 

— property, for example, — the Secretary Duero will make 
note of all that passeth. Let him come forward and take 
place here.” 

The secretary seated himself by the table with manuscript 
and pen. 

Now, gentlemen, begin.” 

So saying, the chief dropped back into his seat, and held% 
the sore hand to Olmedo for further care, — never speech 
more bluff, never face more calm. For a time, nothing was 
heard but the silvery tinkle of the falling water. At length 


THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 


531 


one was found sturdy enough to speak ; others followed him ; 
and, at last, when the opinion was taken, not a voice said 
stay ; on the contrary, the clamor to go was, by some, inde- 
cently loud. 

Cortes then stood up. 

“The opinion is all one way. Hast thou so written, 
Senor Duero 1 ” 

The secretary bowed. 

“ Then write again, — write that I, Hernan Cortes, to this 
retreat said, No ; write that, if I yield my judgment, it is 
not to any necessitjf of which we have heard as coming from 
the enemy, hut to the demand of my people. Hast thou so 
written 1 ” 

The secretary nodded. 

“ Write again, that upon this demand I ordered Alonzo 
Avila and Gonzalo Mexia to take account of all the treasure 
belonging to our master, the most Christian king ; with leave 
to the soldiers, when the total hath been perfected and the re- 
treat made ready, to help themselves from the balance, as each 
one may wish. Those gentlemen will see that their task be 
concluded by noon to morrow. Hast written, Duero 1 ” 

“ Word for word,” answered the secretary. 

“ Very well. And now,” — Cortes raised his head, and 
spoke loudly, — “ and now, rest and sleep who can. This 
business is bad. Get ye gone ! ” 

And when they were alone, he said to Olmedo, — 

“ I have done ill — ” 

“Nay,” said the father, smiling, “thou hast done well.” 

“ Bastante, — we shall see. Never had knaves such need 
of all their strength as when this retreat is begun ; yet of 
•what account will they be when loaded down with the gold 
they cannot consent to leave behind 1 ” 

“Why then the permission 1 ” asked the father. 

Cortes smiled blandly, — 


532 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ If I cannot make them friends, hy my conscience ! I can 
at least seal their mouths in the day of my calamity.” 

Then bowing his head, he added, — 

Thy benediction, father.” 

The blessing was given. 

“ Amen ! ” said Cortes. 

And the priest departed ; but the steps of the iron-hearted 
soldier were heard long after, — not quick and determined 
as usual, but slow and measured, and with many and long 
pauses between. So ambition walks when marshalling its 
resources ; so walks a heroic soul at war itself and for- 
tune ! He flung himself upon his couch at last, saying, — 

“ In my quiver there are two bolts left. The saints help 
me ! I will speed them first.” 


CHAPTER XIV, 


THE KING BEFORE HIS PEOPLE AGAIN. 



UATAMOZIX’S call at the royal palace to see the king, 


VJT Cuitlahua, had not been without result. When told that 
the monarch was too sick of the plague to be seen, he called 
for the officer who had charge of the accounts of tribute re- 
ceived for the royal support. 

Show me,” said the ’tzin, “ how much corn was delivered 
to Montezuma for Malinche.” 

A package of folded aguave leaves was brought and laid 
at the accountant’s feet. In a moment he took out a leaf 
well covered with picture-writing, and gave it to the ’tzin,ik 
who, after study, said to a cacique in waiting, “Bring me 
one of the couriers,” and to another, “ Bring me wherewith 
to write.” 


THE KING BEFORE HIS PEOPLE AGAIN. 


533 


When the latter was brought, he sat down, and dipping 
a brush into a vessel of liquid color, drew upon a clear, 
yellow-tinted leaf a picture of a mother duck leading her 
brood from the shore into the water ; by way of signature, 
he appended in one corner the ligure of an owl in flight. 
On five other sheets he repeated the writing ; then the mis- 
sives were given each to a separate courier with verbal direc- 
tions for their delivery. 

When he left the palace, the ’tzin laid his hand upon 
Hualpa’s shoulder, and said, joyfully, — 

“ Better than I thought, 0 comrade. Malinche has corn 
for one day only ! ” 

The blood quickened in Hualpa’s heart, as he asked, — 
“ Then the end is near 1 ” 

“ To-morrow, or the next day,” said the ’tzin. 

“ But Montezuma is generous, — ” 

“ Can he give what he has not 1 To-night there will he 
delivered for his use and that of his household, whom I have 
had numbered for the purpose, provisions for one day, not 
more.” 

“ Then it is so ! Praised be the gods ! and you, O my 
master, wiser than other men ! ” cried Hualpa, vdth upraised 
face, and a gladness which was of youth again, and love so 
blind that he saw Henetzin, — not the stars, — and so deaf 
that he heard not the other words of the ’tzin, — 

“ The couriers bear my orders to bring up all the armies. 
And they will be here in the morning.” 

* if- ^ * it- 

In the depth of the night, while Cortes lay restlessly 
dreaming, his sentinels on the palace were attracted by music 
*• apparently from every quarter ; at first, so mellowed by dis- 
tance as to seem like the night singing to itself ; afterwhile, 
swollen into the familiar dissonant minstrelsy of conch and 
atabal, mixed with chanting of many voices. 


534 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ 0 ho 1 ” shouted the outliers on the neighboring houses, 
“ 0 ho, accursed strangers ! Think no more of conquest, 
— not even of escape ; think only of death by sacrifice ! 
If you are indeed teules, the night, thougli deepened by the 
smoke of our burning houses, cannot hinder you from seeing 
the children of Anahuac coming in answer to the call of 
Huitzir. If you are men, open wide your ears that you may 
hear their paddles on the lake and their tramp on the cause- 
way. 0 victims ! one day more, then, — the sacrifice ! 

Even the Christians, leaning on their lances, and listening, 
felt the heaviness of heart which is all of fear the brave can 
know, and crossed themselves, and repeated such pater nosters 
as they could recollect. 

And so it was. The reserve armies which had been re- 
posing in the vales behind Chapultepec all marched to 
the city ; and the noise of their shouting, drumming, and 
trumpeting, when they arrived and began to occupy its 
thoroughfares and strong places, was like the roar of the sea. 

To the garrison, under arms meantime, and suffering from 
the influence of all they heard, the dawn was a long time 
coming ; but ai last the sun came, and poured its full light 
over the leaguered palace and courtly precincts. 

But the foemen stood idly looking at each other ; for in 
the night, Cortes, on his side, had made preparations for peace. 
Two caciques went from him to the king Cuitlahua, propos- 
ing a parley ; and the king replied that he would come in 
the morning, and hear what he had to say. So there was 
truce as well as sunshine. 

“ Tell me truly, Don Pedro, — as thou art a gentleman, 
tell me, — didst thou ever see a sight like tliis ? ” 

Whereupon, Alvarado, who, with others, was leaning 
against the parapet which formed part of the battlements of 
the eastern gate of the palace, looked again, and critically, 
over that portion of the square visible from his position, and 


THE KING BEFORE HIS PEOPLE AGAIN. 


535 


replied, — “I will answer truly and lovingly as if thou 
wert my little princess yonder in the patio. Sight like tliis 
I never saw, and ” — he added, with a quizzical smile — 
“ never care to see again.” 

Orteguilla persisted, — 

“ hlay, didst thou ever see anything that surpassed it 'i ” 

Once more Alvarado surveyed the scene, — of men a 
myriad, in the streets rank upon rank ; so on the houses 
and temple, — everywhere the glinting of arms, and the brown 
faces of warriors glistening above their glistening shields ; 
everywhere escaupiles of flaming red, and banners; every- 
where the ineffable beauty and splendor of royal war. The 
good captain withdrew his enamoured gaze slowly : — 

“No, never ! ” he said. 

Even he, the prince of gibes and strange oaths, forgot his 
tricks in presence of the pageant. 

While the foemen looked at each other so idly, up the 
beautiful street came heralds announcing Cuitlahua. Soon 
his palanquin, attended by a great retinue of nobles, was 
brought and set down in front of the eastern gate of the 
palace. Upon its appearance, the people knelt, and touched 
the ground with their palms. Then there was a blare of 
Christian trumpets, and Cortes, with Olmedo and Marina, 
came upon the turret. 

The heralds waved their silver wands : the hush became 
absolute; then the curtains of the palanquin were rolled 
away, and the king turned his head languidly, and looked up 
to Cortes, who raised his visor, and looked down on him ; 
and in the style of a conqueror demanded peace and quick 
return to obedience. 

“ If thou dost not,” he said, “ I will make thy city a ruin.” 

The shrill voice of Marina, interpreting, flew wide over the 
space, so peopled-, yet so still ; at the last word, there was a 
mighty stir, but the heralds waved their wands, and the hush 
came back. 


636 


THE FAIR GOD. 


On Cuitlahua’s face the pallor of sickness gave place to a 
flush of anger ; he sat up, and signed to Guataniozin, and 
upon his shoulder laid his hand trustingly, saying, — 

“ My son, lend me your voice ; answer.” 

The ’tzin, unmindful that the breath he drew upon his 
cheek was the breath of the plague, put his arm around the 
king, and said, so as to be heard to the temple’s top, — 

“ The king Cuitlahua answers for himself and his people. 
Give ear, 0 Malinche ! You have desolated our temples, 
and broken the images of our gods ; the smoke of our city 
offends the sky ; your swords are terrible, — many have fallen 
before them, and many more will fall ; yet we are content to 
exchange. in death a thousand of ours for one of yours. Be- 
hold how many of us are left ; then count your losses, and 
know that you cannot escape. Two suns ' shall not pass, 
until, amidst our plenty, we shall laugh to see you sick from 
hunger. For further answer, 0 Malinche, as becomes the 
king of his people, Cuitlahua gives you the war-cry of his 
fathers.” 

The ’tzin withdrew his arm, and snatching the green 
panache from the palanquin, whirled it overhead, crying, 
“ Up, up, Tlateloco ! Up, Tlateloco ! ” 

At sight of the long feathers streaming over the group, 
like a banner, the multitude sprang to foot, and with horrible 
clamor and a tempest of missiles drove the Christians from 
the turret. 

And of the two bolts in Cortes’ quiver, such was the speed- 
ing of the FIRST ONE ! 

* * ^ * 

An hour passed, — an hour of battle without and dispute 
within the palace. 

To Cortes in his chamber then came Orteguilla, reporting. 

I gave the king the message, Senor ; and he bade me 
toll thee thy purpose is too late. He will not come.” 


THE KING BEFORE HIS PEOPLE AGAIN. 


637 


The passion-vein ^ on Cortes’ neck and forehead rose, and 
stood out like a purple cord. 

“ The heathen dog ! ” he cried. “ Will not ! He is a 
slave, and shall come. By the holy blood of Christ, he shall 
come, or die ! ” 

Then Olmedo spoke, — 

“ If thou wilt hear, Senor, Montezuma affects me and the 
good Captain Oli tenderly ; suffer us to go to him, and see 
what we can do.” 

“ So be it, so be it ! If thou canst bring him, in God’s 
name, go. If he refuse, then — I have sworn ! Hearken to 
the heU’s roar without ! Let me have report quickly. I will 
wait thee here. Begone ! ” 

Olmedo started. Cortes caught his sleeve, and looked at 
him fixedly. 

“ Mira ! ” he said, in a whisper. As thou lovest me do 
this work weU. If he fail — if he fail — 

“ WeU ? ” said Olmedo, in the same tone. 

‘‘ Then — then get thee to prayers ! Go.” 

The audience chamber whither Oli and the priest betook 
themselves, with Orteguilla to interpret, was crowded with 
courtiers, who made way for them to the dais upon which 
Montezuma sat. They kissed his hand, and declining the in- 
vitation to be seated began their mission. 

“ Good king,” said the father, ‘‘ we bring thee a message 
from Malinche ; and as its object is to stay the bloody battle 
which is so grievous to us all, and the slaughter which must 
otherwise go on, we pray thy pardon if we make haste to 
speak.” 

The monarch’s face chilled, and drawing his mantle close 
he said, coldly, — 

“ I am listening.” 

Olmedo proceeded, — 

• Berual Dia^, Hist, de la Conq. 

23 * 


538 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“The Senor Hernan commiserates the hard lot which 
compels thee to listen here to the struggle which hath lasted 
so many days, and always with the same result, — the wast- 
ing of thy people. The contest hath become a rebellion 
against thee as well as against his sovereign and tliine. 
Finally there will be no one left to . govern, — nothing, in- 
deed, but an empty valley and a naked lake. In pity for 
the multitude, he is disposed to help save them from their 
false leaders. He hath sent us, therefore, to ask thee to join 
him in one more effort to that end.” 

“ Said he how I could help him ? ” asked the king. 

“Come and speak to the people, and disperse them, as 
once before thou didst. And to strengthen thy words, and 
as his part of the trial, he saith thou mayst pledge him to leave 
the city as soon as the way is open. Only let there be no 
delay. He is in waiting to go with thee, good king.” 

The monarch listened intently. 

“ Too late, too late ! ” he cried. “ The ears of my people 
are turned from me. I am king in name and form only ; 
the power is another’s. I am lost, — so is Malinche. I will 
not go. Tell him so.” 

There was a stir in the chamber, and a groan from the by- 
standers ; but the messengers remained looking at the poor 
king, as at one who had rashly taken a fatal vow. 

“ Why do you stay ? ” he continued, with a glowing face. 
“ What more have I to do with Malinche ? See the state 
to which my serving him has already reduced me.” 

“ Eemember thy people ! ” said Olmedo, solemnly. 

Flashed the monarch’s eyes as he answered, — 

“ My brave people ! I hear them now! They are in arms 
to save themselves ; and they will not believe me or the 
promises of Malinche. I have spoken.” 

Then Oli moved a step toward the dais, and kissing the 
royal hand, said, with suffused eyes, — 


539 


THE KING BEFORE HIS PEOPLE AGAIN. 


“ Thou knowest I love thee, 0 king ; and I say, if tJiou 
carest for thyself go.” 

Something there was in the words, in the utterance, prob- 
ably, that drew the monarch’s attention ; leaning forward, he 
studied the cavalier curiously ; over his face the while came 
the look of a man suddenly called by his fate. His lips 
parted, his eyes fixed ; and but that battle has voices which 
only the dead may refuse to hear his spirit would have 
drifted off "into unseemly reverie. Eecalling himself with 
an effort, he arose, and said, half-smiling, — 

“ A man, much less a king, is unfit to live when his 
friends think to move him from his resolve by appeals to his 
fears.” And rising, and drawing himself to his full 
stature, he added, so as to be heard throughout the cham- 
ber, “Very soon, if not now, you will understand me when 
I say I do not care for myself. I desire to die. Go, my 
friends, and tell Malinche that I will do as he asks, and 
straightway.” 

Oli and Olmedo kissed his hands, and withdrew \ wher^ 
upon he calmly gave his orders. 

Very soon the ’tzin, who was directing the battle from a 
point near the gate of the coatapantli, saw a warrior appear 
on the turret so lately occupied by Cortes, and wave a royal 
panache. He raised his shield overhead at once, and held it 
there until on his side the combat ceased. The Christians, 
glad of a breathing spell, quit almost as soon. All eyes then 
turned to the turret ; even the combatants who had been 
fighting hand to hand across the crest of the parapet, ven- 
tured to look that way, when, according to the usage of the 
infidel court, the heralds came, and to the four quarters of 
the earth waved their silver wands. 

Too well the ’tzin divined the meaning of the ceremony. 
“ Peace,” he seemed to hear, and then, “ Lover of Anahiiac, 
uervant of the gods, — choose now between king and country. 


640 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Now cr never ! ” The ecstasy of battle fled from him ; his 
will became infirm as a child’s. In the space between him and 
the turret the smoke of the guns curled and writhed sensu- 
ously, each moment growing fainter and weaker, as did the 
great purpose to which he thought he had steeled himself. 
When he brought the shield down, his face was that of a man 
whom long sickness had laid close to the gates of death. 
Then came the image of Tula, and then the royal permission 
to do what the gods enjoined, — nay, more than permission, 
a charge which left the deed to his hand, that there might 
be no lingering amongst the strangers. “ 0 sweetheart ! ” 
he said, to himself, “ if this duty leave me stainless, whom 
may I thank but you ! ” 

Then he spoke to Hualpa, though with a choking voice, — 

“ The king is coming. I must go and meet him. Get my 
bow, and stand by me with an arrow in place for instant 
use.” 

Hualpa moved away slowly, watching the ’tzin ; then he 
returned, and asked, in a manner as full of meaning as the 
words themselves, — 

“ Is there not great need that the arrow should be very 
true ? ” 

The master’s eyes met his as he answered, “Yes ; be 
careful.” 

Yet the hunter stayed. 

“ 0 ’tzin,” he said, “ his blood is not in my veins. He 
is only my benefactor. Your days are not numbered, like 
mine, and as yet you are blameless ; for the sake of the peace 
that makes life sweet, I pray you let my hand do this 
service.” 

And the ’tzin took his hand, and replied, fervently, — 

“ There is nothing so precious as the sight that is quick to 
see the sorrows of others, unless it be the heart that hurries 
to help them. After this, I may never doubt your love ; 


THE KING BEFORE HIS PEOPLE AGAIN. 541 


but the duty is mine, — made so by the gods, — and he has 
asked it of me. Lo, the heralds appear ! ” 

“ He has asked it of you ! that is enough,” and Hualpa 
stayed no longer. 

Upon the turret the carpet was spread and the canopy 
set up, and forth came a throng of cavaliers and infidel 
lords, the latter splendidly bedight ; then appeared Monte- 
zuma and Cortes. 

As the king moved forward a cry, blent of all feelings, — 
love, fear, admiration, hate, reverence, — burst from the 
great audience ; after which only Guatamozin and Hualpa, 
in front of the gate, were left standing. 

And such splendor flashed from the monarch’s person, 
from his sandals of gold, tunic of feathers, tilmatli of white, 
and copilli * inestimably jeweled ; from his face and mien 
issued such majesty that, after the stormy salutation, the 
multitude became of the place a part, motionless as the 
stones, the dead not more silent. 

With his hands crossed upon his breast he stood awhile, 
seeing and being seen, and all things waited for him to 
speak ; even the air seemed waiting, it was so very hushed. 
He looked to the sky, flecked with unhallowed smoke ; to 
the sun, whose heaven, just behind the curtain of brightness, 
was nearer to him than ever before ; to the temple, place of 
many a royal ceremony, his own coronation the grandest of 
all ; to the city, beautiful in its despoilment ; to the people, 
for whom, though they knew it not, he had come to die ; at 
last his gaze settled upon Guatamozin, and as their eyes 
met, he smiled ; then shaking the tilmatli from his shoulder, 
he raised his head, and said, in a voice from which all weak- 
ness was gone, his manner never so kingly, — 

I know, 0 my people, that you took up arms to set me 
free, and that was right ; but how often since then have I 
* The crown. 


542 


THE FAIR GOD. 


told you that I am not a prisoner; that the strangers are my 
guests ; that I am free to leave them when I please, and that 
I live with them because I love them ? ” 

As in a calm a wind sometimes blows down, and breaks 
the placid surface of a lake into countless ripples, driving 
them hither and thither in sparkling confusion, these words 
fell upon the listening mass ; a yell of anger rose, and from 
the temple descended bitter reproaches. 

Yet the ’tzin was steady ; and when the outcry ended, the 
king went on, — 

“ I am told your excuse now is, that you want to drive 
my friends from the city. My children, here stands Ma- 
linche himself. He hears me say for him that, if you will 
open the way, he and all with him wHl leave of their own 
will.” 

Again the people broke out in revilements, but the mon- 
arch waved his hand angrily, and said, — 

“As I am yet your king, I hid you lay down your 
arms — ” 

Then the ’tzin took the ready how from Hualpa ; full to 
the ear he drew the arrow. Steady the arm, strong the 
hand, — an instant, and the deed was done ! In the purple 
shadow of the canopy, amidst his pomp of royalty, Monte- 
zuma fell down, covered, when too late, by a score of 
Christian shields. Around him at the same time fell a 
shower of stones from the temple. 

Then,' with a shout of terror, the companies arose as at a 
word and fled, and, panic-blind, tossed the Tzin here and 
there, and finally left him alone in the square with Hualpa. ' 

“ All is lost ! ” said the latter, disconsolately. 

“ Lost ! ” said the ’tzin. “ On the temple yonder lies Ma- 
linche’s last hope. Ho need now to assail the palace. When 
the king comes out, hunger will go in and fight for us.” 

“ But the people, — where are they ] ” 


THE KING BEFORE HIS PEOPLE AGAIN. 


543 


The ’tzin raised his hand and pointed to the palace, — 

“ So the strangers have asked. See ! ” 

Hualpa turned, and saw the gate open and the cavaliers 
begin to ride forth. 

“ Go they this way, or yon,” continued the ’tzin, “ they 
will find the same answer. Five armies hold the city ; a 
sixth keeps the lake.” 

Down the beautiful street the Christians rode unchal- 
lenged until they came to the first canal. While restoring 
the bridge there, they heard the clamor of an army, and lo ! 
out of the gardens, houses, and temples, far as the vision 
reached, the infidels poured and blocked the way. 

Then the cavaliers rode back, and took the way to Tla- 
copan. There, too, the first canal was bridgeless ; and as 
they stood looking across the chasm, they heard the same 
clamor and beheld the same martial apparition. 

Once more they rode, this time up the street toward the 
northern dike, and with the same result. 

“ Ola^ father ! ” said Cortes, returned to the palace, “ we 
may not stay here after to-morrow.” 

“ Amen ! ” cried Olmedo. 

“ Look thou to the sick and wounded ; such as can march 
or move, get them ready.” 

“ And the others 1 ” asked the good man. 

‘‘Do for them what thou dost for the dying. Shrieve 
them ! ” 

So saying, the Christian leader sank on his seat, and gave 
himself to sombre thought 

He had sped his second and — last bolt ! 

The rest of the day was spent in preparation for retreat. 


544 


THE FAIR GOD. 


CHAPTEE XY. 


THE DEATH OF MONTEZUMA, 



GATX Martin Lopez had long conference with Cortes ; 


after which, with his assistant carpenters, he went to 
work, and, until evening time, the echoes of the court-yard 
danced to the sounds of saw and hammer. 

And while they worked, to Cortes came Avila and Mexia. 

“What thou didst intrust to us, Senor, we have done. 
Here is a full account of all the treasure, our royal master’s 
included.” 

Cortes read the statement, then called his chamberlain, 
Christohal de Guzman. 

“Go thou, Don Christohal, and bring what is here re- 
ported into one chamber, where it may be seen of all. And 
send hither the royal secretaries, and Pedro Hernandez, my 
own clerk.” 

The secretaries came. 

“ Xow, Senores Avila and Mexia, follow my chamberlain, 
and in his presence and that of these gentlemen, take from 
the treasure the portion belonging to his Majesty, the em- 
peror. Of our wounded horses, then choose ye eight, and 
of the Tlascalans, eighty, and load them with the royal div- 
idend, and what more they can carry ; and have them always 
ready to go. And as leaving anything of value where 
the infidels may be profited is sinful, I direct, — and of this 
let all bear witness, Hernandez for me, and the secretaries for 
his Majesty, — I direct, I say, that ye set the remainder apart 
accessible to the soldiers, with leave to each one of them to 
take therefrom as much as he may wish. Make note, 
further, that what is possible to save all this treasure hath 


THE DEATH OF MONTEZUMA. 


545 


been done. Write it, good gentlemen, write it ; for if any 
one thinketh differently, let him say what more I can do. I 
am waiting to hear. Speak ! ” 

No one spoke. 

And while the division of the large plunder went on, and 
afterwards the men scrambled for the remainder, Montezuma 
was dying. 

In the night a messenger sought Cortes. 

“ Senor,” he said, ‘‘ the king hath something to ask of 
you. He will not die comforted without seeing you.” 

“ Die, say’st thou ? ” and Cortes arose hastily. “ I had 
word that his hurts were not deadly.” 

“If he die, Senor, it will be by his own hand. The 
stones wrought him but bruises ; and if he would let the 
bandages alone the arrow-cut would shortly stop bleeding.” 

“ Yes, yes,” said Cortes. “ Thou wouldst tell me that this 
barbarian, merely from being long a king, hath a spirit of 
such exceeding fineness that, though the arrow had not cut 
him deeper than thy dull rowel marketh thy horse’s flank, yet 
would he die. Where is he now % ” 

“ In the audience chamber.” 

“ Bdstante ! I will see him. Tell him so.” 

Cortes stood fast, thinking. 

“ This man hath been useful to me ; may not some 
profit be eked out of him dead So many saw him get 
his wounds, and so many will see him die of them, that the 
manner of his taking off may not be denied. What if I 
send his body out and indict his murderers If I could take 
from them the popular faith even, then — By my con- 
science, I will try the trick ! ” 

And taking his sword and plumed hat and tossing a cloak 
over his shoulder he sought the audience chamber. 

There was no guard at the door. The little bells, as he 
threw aside the curtains, greeted him accusingly. Within, 

n 


546 


THE FAIR GOD. 


all was shadow, except where a flickering lamplight played 
over and around the dais ; nevertheless, he saw the floor 
covered with people, some prostrate, others on their knees or 
crouching face down ; and the grim speculator thought, as 
he passed slowly on. Verily, this king must also have been a 
good man and a generous. 

The couch of the dying monarch was on the dais in the 
accustomed place of the throne. At one side stood the 
ancients ; at the other his queens knelt, weeping. Nenetzin 
hid her face in his hand, and sobbed as if her heart were 
breaking ; she had been forgiven. Now and then Maxtla 
bent over him to cleanse liis face of the flowing blood. A 
group of cavaliers were off a little way, silent witnesses ; 
and as Cortes drew near, Olmedo, who had been in prayer, 
extended toward the sufferer the ivory cross worn usually at 
his girdle. 

“ 0 king,” said the good man imploringly, “ thou hast yet 
a moment of life, which, I pray thee, waste not. Take this 
holy symbol upon thy breast, cross thy hands upon it, 
and say after me : I believe in One God, the Father Al- 
mighty, in our Lord Jesus Christ, the only begotten Son of 
God, and in the Holy Ghost, the Lord and Giver of Life. 
Then pray thou : 0 God the Father of Heaven, 0 God the 
Son, Redeemer of the World, 0 God the Holy Ghost, 0 
Holy Trinity, One God, have mercy upon my soul ! Do 
these things, say these words, 0 king, and thou shalt live 
after thy bones have gone to dust. Thou shalt live forever, 
eternally happy.” 

Courtiers and cavaliers, the queens, Nenetzin, even Cortes, 
watched the monarch’s waning face ; never yet were people 
indifferent to the issue — the old, old issue — of true god 
against false. Marina finished the interpretation ; then he 
raised his hand tremulously, and put the holy sign away, 
saying, — 


THE DEATH OF MONTEZUMA. 


547 


“ I have but a moment to live, and will not desert the 
faith of my fathers now.” 

A great sigh of relief broke from the infidels ; the Chris- 
tians shuddered, and crossed themselves ; then Cortes stepped 
to Olmedo’s side. 

“ I received your message, and am here,” said he, sternly. 
He had seen the cross rejected. 

The king turned his pale face, and fixed his glazing eyes 
upon the conqueror ; and such power was there in the look 
that the latter added, with softening manner, “ What I can 
do for thee I will do. I have always been thy true friend.” 

“ 0 Malinche, I hear you, and your words make dying 
easy,” answered Montezuma, smiling faintly. 

With an effort he sought Cortes’ hand, and looking at 
Acatlan and Tecalco, continued, — 

“ Let me intrust these women and their children to you 
and your lord. Of all that which was mine hut now is 
yours, — lands, people, empire, — : enough to save them from 
want and shame were small indeed. Promise me ; in the 
hearing of all these, promise, Malinche.” 

Taint of anger was there no longer on the soul of the great 
Spaniard. 

“ Eest thee, good king ! ” he said, with feeling. “ Thy 
queens and their children shall be my wards. In the hear- 
ing of all these, I so swear.” 

The listener smiled again ; his eyes closed, his hand 
fell down ; and so still was he that they began to think 
him dead. Suddenly he stirred, and said faintly, but dis- 
tinctly, — 

^‘Nearer, uncles, nearer.” 

The old men bent over him, listening. 

A message to Guatamozin, — to whom I give my last 
thought as king. Say to him, that this lingering in death is 
no fault of his ; the aim was true, but the arrow splinter^ 


548 


THE FAIR GOD. 


upon leaving the bow. And lest the world hold him to ac- 
count for my blood, hear me say, all of you, that I bade him 
do what he did. And in sign that I love him, take my 
sceptre, and give it to him — ” 

The voice fell away, yet the lips moved ; lower the an- 
cients stooped, — 

“ Tula and the empire go with the sceptre,” he mur- 
mured, and they were his last words, — his will. 

A wail from the women proclaimed him dead. 

The unassoilzied great may not see heaven; they pass 
from life into history, where, as in a silent sky, they shine 
for ever and ever. So the light of the Indian King comes 
to us, a glow rather than a brilliance ; for, of all fates, his 
was the saddest. Better not to be than to become the orna- 
ment of another’s triumph. Alas for him whose death is 
an immortal sorrow ! 

Out of the palace-gate in the early morning passed the 
lords of the court in procession, carrying the remains of the 
monarch. The bier was heavy with royal insignia ; nothing 
of funeral circumstance was omitted ; honor to the dead was 
policy. At the same time the body was dehvered, Cortes in- 
dicted the murderers ; the ancients through whom he spoke 
were also the bearers of the dead king’s last will ; back to 
the bold Spaniard, therefore, came the reply, — 

“ Cowards, who at the last moment beg for peace ! you are 
not two suns away from your own graves ! Think only of 
them ! ” 

And while Cortes was listening to the answer, the streets 
about the palace filled with companies, and crumbling para- 
pet and solid wall shook under the shock of a new assault. 

Then Cortes’ spirit arose. 

“ Mount, gentlemen ! ” he cried. The hounds come 
scrambling for the scourge ; shame on us, if we do not meet 
them. And hearken ! The prisoners report a plague in 


THE DEATH OF MONTEZUMA. 


549 


the city, of which the new king is dying, and hundreds are 
sick. It is the small-pox.” 

“ Viva la viruela I ” shouted Alvarado. 

The shout spread through the palace. 

“Where God’s curse is,” continued Cortes, “Christians 
need not stay. To-night we will go. To clear the way and 
make this day memorable let us ride. Are ye ready 1 ” 

They answered joyously. 

Again the gates were opened, and with a goodly following 
of infantry, into the street they rode. Nothing withstood 
them ; they passed the canals by repairing the bridges or 
filling up the chasms ; they rode the whole length of the 
street until the causeway clear to Tlacopan was visible. St. 
James fought at their head ; even the Holy Mother stooped 
from her high place, and threw handfuls of dust in the 
enemy’s eyes. 

In the heat of the struggle suddenly the companies fell 
back, and made open space around the Christians ; then 
came word that commissioners from king Cuitlahua waited 
in the palace to treat of peace. 

“ The heathen is an animal ! ” said Cortes, unable to re- 
press his exultation. “ To cure him of temper and win his 
love, there is nothing like the scourge. Let us ride back, 
gentlemen.” * 

In the court-yard stood four caciques, stately men in peace- 
ful garb. They touched the pavement with their palms. 

“ We are come to say, 0 Malinche, that the lord Cuitla- 
hua, our king, yields to your demand for peace. He prays 
you to give your terms to the pabas whom you captured on 
the temple, that they may bring them to him forthwith.” 

The holy men were brought from their cells, one leaning 
upon the other. The instructions were given ; then the two, 
with the stately commissioners, were set without the gate, 
and Cortes and his army went to rest, never so contented. 


550 


THE FAIR GOD. 


They waited and waited ; but the envoys came not. When 
the sun went down, they knew themselves deceived ; and 
then there were sworn many full, round, Christian oaths, 
none so full, so round, and so Christian as Cortes’. 

A canoe, meantime, bore lo’ to Tula. In the quiet and 
perfumed shade of the chinampa he rested, and soothed the 
fever of his wound. 

Meanwhile, also, a courier from the teotuctli passed from 
temple to temple ; short the message, but portentous, — 

“ Blessed be Huitzil’, and all the gods of our fathers ! 
And, as he at last saved his people, blessed be the memory 
of Montezuma ! Purify the altars, and make ready for the 
sacrifice, for to-morrow there will be victims ! ” 


CHAPTER XVI. 


ADIEU TO THE PALACE. 



T sunset a cold wind blew from the north, followed 


by a cloud which soon filled the valley with mist ; 
soon the mist turned to rain ; then the rain turned to night, 
and the night to deepes1» blackness. 

The Christians, thinking only of escape from the city, 
saw the change of weather with sinking hearts. With one 
voice they had chosen the night as most favorable for the 
movement, but they had in mind then a semi-darkness 
warmed by south winds and brilliant with stars ; not a time 
like this so unexpectedly come upon them, — tempest added 
to gloom, icy wind splashing the earth with icy water. 

Under the walls the sentinels cowered shivering and 
listening and, as is the habit of wanderers surrounded by 
discomforts and miseries, musing of their homes so far away, 


ADIEU TO THE PALACE. 


651 


and of the path thither j on the land so beset, on the sea so 
viewless. Eecalled to present duty, they saw nothing but the 
fires of the nearest temple faintly iridescent, and heard only 
the moans of the blast and the pattering of the rain, always 
so in harmony with the spirit when it is oppressed by loneli- 
ness and danger. 

Meantime, the final preparation for retreat went on with 
the completeness of discipline. 

About the close of the second watch of the night, Cortes, with 
his personal attendants, — page, equerry, and secretaries, — 
left his chamber and proceeded to the eastern gate, where he 
could best receive reports, and assure himself, as the divisions 
filed past him, that the column was formed as he had ordered. 
The superstructure of the gate offered him shelter ; but he 
stood out, bridle in hand, his back to the storm. There he 
waited, grimly silent, absorbed in reflections gloomy as the 
night itself. 

Everything incident to the preparation which required 
light had been done before the day expired ; outside the 
house, therefore, there was not a spark to betray the move- 
ment to the enemy ; in fact, nothing to betray it except the 
beat of horses’ hoofs and the rumble of gun-carriages, and 
they were nigh drowned by the tempest. If the saints would 
but help him clear of the streets of the city, would help him 
to the causeway even, without bringing the infidels upon 
him, sword and lance would win the rest : so the leader 
prayed and trusted the while he waited. 

“ My son, is it thou 1 ” asked a man, close at his side. 

He turned quickly, and replied, “ Eather Bartolom4 1 
Welcome ! ' What dost thou bring ? ” 

‘‘ Eeport of the sick and wounded.” 

“ I remember, I remember ! Of all this bad business, by 
my conscience ! no part so troubled me as to say. what should 
be done with them. At the last moment thou wert good 


552 


THE FAIR GOD. 


enough to take the task upon thyself. Speak : what did 
thy judgment dictate? What did thy conscience permit ? ” 
The good man arranged his hood, the better to shield his 
face from the rain, and answered, — 

“ Of the Christians, all who are able will take their places 
in th§ line ; the very sick will he borne by Tlascalans ; the 
litters are ready for them.” 

“Very well,” said Cortes. 

“ The Tlascalans — ” 

“ Cierto, there the trouble began ! ” and Cortes laid his 
hand heavily on the priest’s shoulder. “ Three hundred and 
more of them too weak to rise from the straw, which yet 
hath not kept their bones from bruising the stony floor ! 
Good heart, what didst thou with them ? ” 

“ They are dead.” 

“ Mother of God ! Didst thou kill them ? ” Cortes 
griped the shoulder until Olmedo groaned. “ Didst thou 
kill them?” 

The father shook himself loose, saying, “There is no 
blood on my hands. The Holy Mother came to my help ; 
and this was the way. Eemembrance of the love of 
Christ forbade the leaving one Christian behind; but the 
heathen born had no such appeal ; they must be left, — 
necessity said so. I could not kill them. By priestly 
office, I could prepare them for death ; and so I went from 
man to man with holy formula and sacramental wafer. The 
caciques were with me the while, and when I had con- 
cluded, they spoke some words to the sufferers : then I saw 
what never Christian saw before. Hardly wilt thou believe 
me, but, Senor, I beheld the poor wretches, with smiles, bare 
their breasts, and the chiefs begin and thrust their javelins 
into the hearts of all there lying.” 

An exclamation of horror burst from Cortes, — 

“ ’T was murder, murder ! What didst thou ? 


ADIEU TO THE PALACE. 


553 


Olmedo replied quickly, “ Trust me, my son, I rushed 
in, and stayed the work until the victims themselves prayed 
the chiefs to go on. Not even then did I give over my ef- 
forts, — not until they made me understand the purpose of 
the butchery.” 

“And that? Haste thee, ‘father. What thou tellest 
will stagger Christendom ! ” 

Again Cortes caught the priest’s shoulder. 

“ Nay,” said the latter, shrinking back, “ thy hand is 
hard enough without its glove of steel.” 

“ Pardon, father ; but, — ” 

“ In good time, my son, in good time ! What, but for 
thy impatience, I would have said ere this is, that the object 
was to save the honor of the tribe, and, by killing the un- 
fortunates, rescue them from the gods of their enemy. Ac- 
cordingly, the bands who are first to enter the palace to-night 
or to-morrow will find treasure, — much treasure as thou 
knowest, — but not one victim.” 

The father spoke solemnly, for in the circumstance there 
was a strain of pious exaltation that found an echo in his 
own devoted nature ; greatly was he shocked to hear Cortes 
laugh. 

“ Valgame Dios ! ” he cried, crossing himseK ; “ the man 
blasphemes ! ” 

“ Blasphemes, saidst thou ^ ” and Cortes checked himself. 
“May the saints forget me forever, if I laughed at the 
tragedy thou wert telling! I laughed at thy simplicity, 
father.” 

“ Is this a time for jesting ? ” asked Olmedo. 

“ Good father,” said Cortes, gravely, “ the bands that take 
the palace to-night or to-morrow wiU find no treasure, — 
not enough to buy a Christmas ribbon for a country girl. 
Look now. I went to the treasure-room a little while be- 
fore coming here, and there I found the varlets of Narvaez 
24 


554 


THE FAIR GOD. 


loading themselves with bars of silver and gold ; they had 
sacks and pouches belted to their waists and shoulders, and 
were filling them to bursting. Possibly some gold-dust 
spilled on the floor may remain for those who succeed us ; 
but nothing more. Pray thou, good priest, good friend, 
pray thou that the treasure be not found in the road we 
travel to-night.” 

A body of men crossing the court-yard attracted Cortes ; 
then four horsemen approached, and stopped before him. 

“ Is it thou, Sandoval ? ” he asked. 

“Yes, SenOr.” 

“ And Ordas, Lugo, and Tapia ? ” 

“ Here,” they rephed. 

“ And thy following, Sandoval ? ” 

“ The cavaliers of Harvaez whom thou gavest me, one 
hundred chosen soldiers, and the Tlascalans to the number 
thou didst order.” 

“ Bien / Lead out of the gate, and halt after making what 
thou deemest room for the other divisions. Christ and St, 
J ames go with thee j ” 

“ Amen ! ” responded Olmedo. 

And so the vanguard passed him, — a long succession of 
shadowy files that he heard rather than saw. Hardly were 
they gone when another body approached, led by an officer 
on foot. 

“ Who art thou ? ” asked Cortes. 

“ Magarino,” the man replied. 

“ Whom have you ? ” 

“One hundred and fifty Christians, and four hundred 
Tlascalans.” 

“ And the bridge 1 ” 

“We have it here.” 

“ As thou lovest life and honor, captain, heed well thin® 
orders. Move on, and join thyself to Sandoval.” 


ADIEU TO THE PALACE. 


555 


The bridge spoken of was a portable platform of hewn 
plank bolted to a frame of stout timbers, designed to pass the 
column over the three canals intersecting the causeway to 
Tlacopan, which, in the sally of the afternoon, had been 
found to be bridgeless. If the canals were deep as had 
been reported, well might Magarino be charged with partic- 
ular care ! 

In the order of march next came the centre or main body, 
Cortes’ immediate command. The baggage was in their 
charge, also the greater part of the artillery, making of itself a 
long train, and one of vast interest ; for, though in the midst 
of a confession of failure, the leader did not abate his in- 
tention of conquest, — such was a peculiarity of his genius. 

“ Mexia, Avila, good gentlemen,” he said, halting the 
royal treasurers, “ let me assure myself of what beyond per- 
adventure ye are assured.” 

And he counted the horses and men bearing away the 
golden dividend of the emperor, knowing if what they had 
in keeping were safely lodged in the royal depositaries, there 
was nothing which might not be condoned, — not usurpa- 
tion, defeat even. Most literally, they bore Ms fortune. 

A moment after there came upon him a procession of 
motley composition : disabled Christians ; servants, mostly 
females, carrying the trifles they most affected, — here a 
bundle of wearing apparel, there a cage with a bird ; prison- 
ers, amongst others the prince Cacama, heart-broken by his 
misfortunes ; women of importance and rank, comfortably 
housed in curtained palanquins. So went Marina, her slaves 
side by side with those of Nenetzin, in whose mind the 
fears, sorrows, and emotions of the thousands setting out in 
the march had no place, for Alvarado had wrapped her in 
his cloak, and lifted her into the carriage, and left a kiss on 
her lips, with a: promise of oversight and protection. 

As if to make good the promise, almost on the heels of 


556 


THE FAIR GOD. 


her slaves rode the deft cavalier, blithe of spirit, because of 
the happy chance which made the place of the lover that 
of duty also. Behind him, well apportioned of Christians 
and Tlascalans and much the largest of the divisions, moved 
the rear-guard, of which he and Leon were chiefs. His 
bay mare, Bradamante, however, seemed not to share his 
gayety, but tossed her head, and champed the bit, and 
frequently shied as if scared. 

■ Have done, my pretty girl ! ’’ he said to her. “ Fright- 
ened, art thou 1 ’T is only the wind, ugly enough, I trow, 
but nothing worse. Or art thou jealous ? Verguenza ! To- 
morrow she shall find thee in the green pastui’e, and kiss 
thee as I will her.” 

“ Ola, captain ! ” said Cortes, approaching him. “ To 
whom speakest thou ? ” 

To my mistress, Bradamante, Senor,” he replied, check- 
ing the rein impatiently. “ Sometimes she hath airs prettier, 
as thou knowest, than the prettinesses of a woman ; but now, 
— So ho, girl ! — now she — Have done, I say ! — now she 
hath a devil. And where she got it I know not, unless 
from the knave Botello.” * 

‘‘ What of him % Where is he 'I ” asked Cortes, with sud- 
den interest. 

“ Back with Leon, talking, as is his wont, about certain 
subtleties, nameless by good Christians, but which he never- 
theless calleth prophecies.” 

What saith the man now ? ” 

“ Out of the mass of his follies, I remember three : that 
thou, Senor, from extreme misfortune, shalt at last attain 
great honor ; that to-night hundreds of us will be lost, — 
which last I can forgive in him, if only his third predictiou 
come true.” 

“And that]” 


* A reputed soothsayer. 


ADIEU TO THE PALACE. 


557 


'‘iSTay, Senor, except as serving to show that the rogue 
hath in him a savor of uncommon fairness, it is the least 
important of all ; he saith he himself wiU be amongst the 
lost.” 

Then Cortes laughed, saying, “ Wilt thou never be done 
with thy quips h Lead on. I will wait here a little 
longer.” 

Alvarado vanished, being in haste to recover his place 
behind ISTenetzin. • Before Cortes then, with the echoless 
tread of panthers in the glade, hurried the long array of 
Tlascalans ; after them, the cross-bowmen and arquebusiers, 
their implements clashing against their heavy armor ; yet he 
stood silent, pondering the words of Botello. Not until, with 
wheels grinding and shaking the pavement, the guns reached 
him did he wake from his thinking. 

“ Ho, Mesa, well met ! ” he said to the veteran, whom 
he distinguished amid a troop of slaves dragging the first 
piece. “ This is not a night like those in Italy where thou 
didst learn the cunning of thy craft; yet there might be 
worse for us.” 

“ Mira, Senor ! ” and Mesa went to him, and said in a 
low voice, ^‘What thou saidst was cheerily spoken, that I 
might borrow encouragement ; and I thank thee, for I have 
much need of aU the comfort thou hast to give. A poor re- 
turn have I, Senor. If the infidels attack us, rely not upon 
the guns, not even mine : if the wind did not whisk the 
priming away, the rain would drown it, — and then,” — his 
voice sunk to a whisper; “owr matches will not hum ! ” 

At that moment a gust dashed Cortes with water, and for 
the first time he was chilled, — chilled until his teeth chat- 
tered ; for simultaneously a presentiment of calamity touched 
him with what in a man less brave would have been fear. 
He saw how, without the guns, Botello’s second prediction 
was possible ! Nevertheless, he replied, — 


658 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ The saints can help their own in the dark as well 
as in the light. Do thy best. To-morrow thou shalt be 
captain.” 

Then Cortes mounted his horse, and took his shield, and 
to his wrist chained his battle-axe : still he waited. A 
company of horsemen brushed past him, followed by a 
sohtary rider. 

“ Leon ! ” said Cortes. 

The cavalier stopped, and replied, — 

“What wouldst thou, Senorl” 

“ Are the guards withdrawn ] ” 

“ All of them.” 

“ And the sentinels ^ ” 

“ I have been to every post ; not a man is left.” 

Cortes spoke to his attendants and they, too, rode off; 
when they were gone he said to Xeon, — 

“ Now we may go.” 

And with that together they passed out into the street. 
Cortes turned, and looked toward the palace, now deserted ; 
but the night seemed to have snatched the pile away, and 
in its place left a blackened void. Fugitive as he was, 
riding he knew not to what end, he settled in his saddle 
again with a sigh — not for the old house itself, nor for the 
comfort of its roof, nor for the refuge in time of danger ; not 
for the Christian dead reposing in its gardens, their valor 
wasted and their graves abandoned, nor for that other 
victim there sacrificed in his cause, whose weaknesses might 
not be separated from a thousand services, and a royalty 
superbly Eastern : these were things to wake the emotions 
of youths and maidens, young in the world, and of poets, 
dreamy and simple-minded ; he sighed for the power he had 
there enjoyed, — the week's and months when his word was 
law for an empire of shadowy vastness, and he was master, 
in fact, of a king of kings, — immeasurable power now lost, 
apparently forever. 


THE PURSUIT BEGINS. 


559 


% 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE PURSUIT BEGINS. 


JSF the afternoon the king Cuitlahua, whose sickness had 



-L greatly increased, caused himself to be taken to Chapul- 
tepec, where he judged he would be safer from the enemy 
.and better situated for treatment by his doctors and nurses. 
Before leaving, however, he appointed a deputation of an- 
cients, and sent them, with his signet and a message, to 
Guatamozin. 

The ’tzin, about the same time, changed his quarters 
from the teocallis, now but a bare pavement high in air, 
to the old Ch of Quetzal’. 'That the strangers must shortly 
attempt to leave the city he knew ; so giving up the assault 
on the palace, he took measures to destroy them, if pos- 
sible, while in retreat. The road they would move by 
was the only point in the connection about which he was 
undecided. Anyhow, they must seek the land by one of 
the causeways. Those by Tlacopan and Tepejaca were 
the shortest ; therefore, he believed one or the other of 
them would be selected. Upon that theory, he accommo- 
dated all his preparations to an attack from the lake, while 
the foe were outstretched on the narrow dike. As sufficient 
obstructions in their front, he relied upon the bridgeless 
canals ; their rear he would himself assail with a force 
chosen from the matchless children of the capital, whose 
native valor was terribly inflamed by the ruin and suffering 
they had seen and endured. The old Cu was well located 
for his part of the operation and there, in the sanctuary, 
surrounded by a throng of armed caciques and lords, the 
deputies of the king Cuitlahua found him. 


560 


THE FAIK GOD. 


If the shade of Mualox lingered about the altar of the 
peaceful god, no doubt it thrilled to see the profanation of 
the holy place ; if it sought refuge in the cells below, alas ! 
they were filled by an army in concealment ; and if it went 
further, down to what the paba, in his poetic madness, had 
lovingly called his World, alas again ! the birds were dead, 
the shrubs withered, the angel gone ; only the fountain 
lived, of Darkness a sweet voice singing in the ear of 
Silence. 

So the ’tzin being found, this was the message delivered, 
to him from the king Cuitlahua : — 

“ May the gods love you as I do ! lam sick with the 
sickness of the strangers. Come not near me, lest you be 
taken also. I go to Chapultepec to get ready for death. 
If I die, the empire is yours. Meantime, I give you aU 
power.” 

Guatamozin took the signet, and was once more master, if 
not king, in the city of his fathers. The deputies kissed his 
hand ; the chiefs saluted him ; and when the tidings reached 
the companies below, the cells rang as never before, not 
even with the hymns of their first tenants. 

While yet the incense of the ovation sweetened the air 
about him, he looked up at the image of the god, — web of 
spider on its golden sceptre, dust on its painted shield, dust 
bending its plumes of fire ; he looked up into the face, yet 
fair and benignant, and back to him rushed the speech of 
Mualox, clear as if freshly spoken, — “ Anahuac, the beauti- 
ful, — her existence, and the glory and power that make it a 
thing of worth, are linked to your action. 0 ’tzin, your fate 
and hers, and that of the many nations, is one and the 
same ! ” and the beating of his pulse quickened thrice ; for 
now he could see that the words were prophetic of his 
country saved by him. 

Then up the broad steps of the Cfi, into the sanctuary. 


THE PURSUIT BEGINS. 


561 


and tlirough the crowd, rushed Hualpa ; the rain streamed 
from his quilted armor ; and upon the floor in front of the 
’tzin, with a noise like the fall of a heavy hammer, he 
dropped the butt of a lance to which was affixed a Christian 
sword-blade. 

“ At last, at last, 0 ’tzin ! ” he said, “ the strangers are in 
the street, marching toward Tlacopan.” 

The company hushed their very breathing. 

“ All of them % ” asked the 'tzin. 

All but the dead.” 

Then on the ’tzin’s lip a smile, in his eyes a flash as of flame. 

Hear you, friends % ” he said. “ The time of vengeance 
has come. You know your places and duty. Go, each one. 
May the gods go with you ! ” 

In a moment he and Hualpa were alone. The latter bent 
his head, and crossing his hands upon his breast said, — 
“When -the burthen of my griefs has been greatest, and 
I cried out continually, 0 Tzin, you have held me back, 
promising that my time would come. I doubt not your bet- 
ter judgment, but — but I have no more patience. My 
enemy is abroad, and she, whom I cannot forget, goes with 
him. Is not the time come 1 ” 

Guatamozin laid his hand on Hualpa’s : — 

“ Be glad, 0 comrade ! The time has come ; and as 
you have prepared for it like a warrior, go now, and get the 
revenge so long delayed. I give you more than permission, 

I give you my prayers. Where are the people who are to 

go with you 1 ” 

“ In the canoes, waiting.” 

They were silent awhile. Then the ’tzin took the lance, 
and looked at the long, straight blade admiringly ; under its 
blue gleam lay the secret of its composition, by which the 
few were able to mock the many, and ravage the capital and 
country. 

3 3 


24 


562 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ Dread nothing ; it will conquer,” he said, handing the 
weapon hack. 

Hualpa kissed his hand, and replied, “I thought to 
make return for your preferments, 0 ’tzin, by serving you 
well when you were king ; but the service need not be put 
off so long. I thank the gods for this night’s opportunity. 
If I come not with the rising of the sun to-morrow, 
I^enetzin can tell you my story. Farewell ! ” 

With his face to his benefactor, he moved away. 

“ Have a care for yourself ! ” said the ’tzin, regarding him 
earnestly ; “ and remember there must be no sign of attack 
until the strangers have advanced to the first causeway. I 
will look for you to-morrow. Farewell ! ” 

While yet the ’tzin’s thoughts went out compassionately 
after his unhappy friend, up from their irksome hiding in the 
cells came the companies he was to lead, — a long array in 
white tunics of quilted cotton. At their head, the uniform 
covering a Christian cuirass, and with Christian helm and 
battle-axe, he marched ; and so, through the darkness and 
the storm, the pursuit began. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

LA NOCHE TRISTE. 

T he movement of the fugitive army was necessarily 
slow. Stretched out in the street, it formed a column 
of irregular front and great depth. A considerable portion 
was of non-combatants, such as the sick and wounded, 
the servants, women, and prisoners ; to whom might be 
added the Indians carrying the baggage and ammunition, and 


LA NOCHE TRISTE. 


563 


laboriously dragging the guns. The darkness, and the rain 
beaten into the faces of the sufferers by the wind, made the 
keeping order impossible ; at each step the intervals between 
individuals and between the divisions grew wider and 
wider. After crossing two or three of the bridges, a general 
confusion began to prevail ; the officers, in dread of the enemy, 
failed to call out, and the soldiers, bending low to protect their 
faces, and hugging their arms or their treasure, marched in 
dogged silence, indifferent to all but themselves. Soon what 
was at first a fair column in close order became an irregular 
procession ; here a crowd of aU the arms mixed, there a 
thin line of stragglers. 

It is a simple thing, I know, yet nothing has so much to 
do with •what we habitually call our spirits as the condition 
in which we are at the time. Under an open sky, with the 
breath of a glowing morning in our nostrils, we sing, 
laugh, and are brave ; but let the cloud hide the blue ex- 
panse and cover our walk with shadow, and we shrink 
within ourselves ; or worse, let the walk be in the night, 
through a strange place, with rain and cold added, and 
straightway the fine thing we call courage merges itself into 
a sense of duty or sinks into humbler concern for comfort 
and safety. So, not a man in all the column, — not a cava- 
lier, not a slave, — but felt himself oppressed by the circum- 
stances of the situation ; those who, only that afternoon, had 
charged like lions along that very street now yielded to the 
indefinable effect, and were weak of heart even to timidity. 
The imagination took hold of most of them, especially of 
the humbler class, and, lining the way with terrors all its 
own, reduced them to the state when panic rushes in to 
complete what fear begins. They started at the soughing of 
the wind ; drew to strike each other ; cursed the rattle of 
their arms, the hoof-beats of the horses, the rumble of the 
carriage-wheels ; on the houses, vaguely defined against the 


564 


THE FAIK GOD. 


sky, they saw sentinels ready to give the alarm, and down 
the intersecting streets heard the infidel legions rushing upon 
them ; very frequently they stumbled over corpses yet cum- 
bering the way after the day’s fight, and then they whispered 
the names of saints, and crossed themselves : the dead, al- 
ways suggestive of death, were never so much so to them. 

And so, for many squares, across canals, past palaces and 
temples, they marched, and nothing to indicate an enemy ; 
the city seemed deserted. 

“ Hist, Senor ! ” said Duero, speaking with bated breath. 
“ Hast thou not heard of the army of unbelievers that, in 
the night, while resting in their camp, were by a breath put 
to final sleep 1 Verily, the same good angel of the Lord hath 
been here also.” * 

“ Hay, compadre mio,' replied Cortes, bending in his sad- 
dle, I cannot so persuade myself. If the infidels meant 
to let us go, the going would not be so peaceful. From 
some house-top we should have had their barbarous farewell, 
— a stone, a lance, an arrow, at least a curse. By many 
signs, — for that matter, by the rain which, driven through 
the visor bars, is finding its way down the doublet under my 
breastplate, — by many signs, I know we are in the midst of 
a storm. Good Mother forfend, lest, bad as it is, it presage 
something worse ! ” 

At that moment a watcher on the azoteas of a temple near 
by chanted the hour of midnight. 

Didst hear 1 ” asked Cortes. “ They are not asleep ! 
Ohnedo ! father ! Where art thou 1 ” 

“ What wouldst thou, my son % ” 

“ That thou shouldst not get lost in this Tophet ; more 
especially, that thou shouldst keep to thy prayers.” 

And about that time Sandoval, at the head of his ad- 
vanced guard, rode from the street out on the open cause- 
way. Farther on, but at no great distance, he came to the 


LA NOCHE TEISTE. 


565 


first canal. While there, waiting for the bridge to he brought 
forward, he heard from the lake to his right the peal long 
and loud of a conch-shell. His heart, in battle steadfast 
as a rock, throbbed faster ; and with raised shield and close- 
griped sword, he listened, as did all with him, while other 
shells took up and carried the blast back to the c'fty, and far 
out over the lake. 

In the long array none failed to interpret the sound aright ; 
all recognized a signal of attack, and halted, the slave by 
his prolong, the knight on his horse, each one as the moment 
found him. They said not a word, but listened ; and as they 
heard the peal multiply countlessly in every direction, — now 
close by, now far off, — surprise, the first emotion, turned to 
dismay. Flight, — darkness, — storm, — and now the in- 
fidels ! “ May God have mercy on us ! ” murmured the 

brave, making ready to fight. “ May God have mercy on 
us ! ” echoed the timid, ready to fly. 

The play of the wind upon the lake seemed somewhat 
neutralized by the density of the rain ; still the waves 
splashed lustily against the grass-grown sides of the cause- 
way ; and while Sandoval was wondering if there were 
many, who, in frail canoes, would venture upon the waste at 
such a time, another sound, heard, as it were, under that of 
the conchs, yet too strong to be confounded with wind or 
surging water, challenged his attention ; then he was assured. 

“Now, gentlemen,” he said, “get ye ready; they are 
coming. Pass the word, and ride one to Magarino, — 
speed to him, speed him here ! His bridge laid now were 
worth a hundred lives ! ” 

As the yells of the infidels — or, rather, their yell, for the 
many voices rolled over the water in one great volume — 
grew clearer their design became manifest. 

Cortes touched Olmedo : — 

“ Dost thou remember the brigantines ? ” 


566 


THE FAIR GOD. 


“ What of them 1 ” 

“ Only, father, that what will happen to-night would nofe 
if they were afloat. Now shall we pay the penalty of their 
loss. Ay de miT' Then he said aloud to the cavaliers, 
Morla, Olid, Avila, and others. “ By my conscience, a dark 
day for us was that in which the lake went back to the 
heathen, — brewer, it, of this darker night ! An end of 
loitering ! Bid the trumpeters blow the advance ! One 
ride forward to hasten Magarino ; another to the rear that 
the division may be closed up. No space for the dogs to 
land from their canoes. Hearken ! ” 

The report of a gun, apparently back in the city, reached 
them. ' 

“ They are attacking the rear-guard ! Mesa spoke then. 
On the right hear them, and on the left ! Mother of God, 
if our people stand not firm now, better prayers for our 
souls than fighting for our lives ! ” 

A stone then struck Avila, startling the group with its 
clang upon his armor. 

“ A slinger ! ” cried Cortes. “ On the right here, — can 
ye see him h ” 

They looked that way, but saw nothing. Then the sense 
of helplessness in exposure smote them, and, knightly as 
they were, they also felt the common fear. 

“ Make way ! Boom, room ! ” shouted Magarino, rushing 
to the front, through the advance-guard. His Tlascalans 
were many and stout ; to swim the canal, — with ropes 
to draw the bridge after them, — to plant it across the 
chasm, were things achieved in a moment. 

“ Well done, Magarino ! Forward, gentlemen, — forward 
all ! ” so saying, Sandoval spurred across ; after him, in reck- 
less haste, his whole division rushed. The platform, quiver- 
ing throughout, was stancher than the stone revetments 
upon which its ends were planted ; calcined by fire, they 


LA NOCHE TRISTE. 


567 


crumbled like chalk. The crowd then crossing, sensible 
that the floor was giving way under them, yelled with ter- 
ror, and in their frantic struggle to escape toppled some of 
them into the canal. None paused to look after the unfor- 
tunates ; for the shouting of the infldels, which had been 
coming nearer and nearer, now rose close at hand, muffling 
the thunder of the horses plunging on the sinking bridge. 
Moreover, stones and arrows began to fall in that quarter 
with effect, quickening the hurry to get away. 

Cortes reached the bridge at the same time the infidels 
reached the causeway. He called to Magarino ; before the 
good captain could answer, the waves to the right hand 
became luminous with the plashing of countless paddles, and 
a fleet of canoes burst out of the darkness. Up rose the 
crews, ghost-like in their white armor, and showered the 
Christians with missiles. A cry of terror, — a rush, — and 
the cavaliers were pushed on the bridge, which they jammed 
deeper in the rocks. Some horses, wild with fright, leaped 
into the lake, and, iron-clad, like their riders, were seen no 
more. 

On the further side, Cortes wheeled about, and shouted 
to his friends. Olmedo answered, so did Morla ; then they 
were swept onward. 

Alone, and in peril of being forced down the side of the 
dike, Cortes held his horse to the place. The occasional boom 
of guns, a straggling fire of small arms, and the unintermitted 
cries of the infidels, in tone exultant and merciless, assured him 
that the attack was the same everywhere down the column. 
One look he gave the scene near by, — on the bridge, a mass 
of men struggling, cursing, praying; wretches falling, their 
shrieks shrill with despair ; the lake whitening with assail- 
ants ! He shuddered, and called on the saints ; then the 
instinct of the soldier prevailed : — 

“ Ola, comrades ! ” he cried. It is nothing. Stand, if 


568 


THE FAIR GOD. 


ye love life. Stand, and figM, as ye so well know how ! 
Holy Cross ! Christo y Santiago ! ” 

He spurred into the thick of the throng. In vain ; the 
current was too strong ; the good steed seconded him with 
hoof and frontlet; now he prayed, now cursed; at last 
he yielded, seeing that on the other side of the bridge was 
Fear, on his side Panic. 

When the signal I have described, borne from the lake to 
the city, began to resound from temple to temple, the rear- 
guard were yet many squares from the causeway, and had, 
for the most part, become merely a procession of drenched 
and cowering stragglers. The sound alarmed them; and 
divining its meaning, they assembled in accidental groups, 
and so hurried forward. 

Nenetzin and Marina, yet in company, were also startled 
by the noisy shells. The latter stayed not to question or 
argue ; at her word, sharply spoken, her slaves followed fast 
after the central division, and rested not until they had 
gained a place well in advance of the non-combatants, whose 
slow and toilsome progress she had shrewdly dreaded. Not 
so Nenetzin : the alarm proceeded from her countrymen ; 
feared she, therefore, for her lover ; and when, vigilant as 
he was gallant, he rode to her, and kissed her hand, and spoke 
to her in lover’s phrase, she laughed, though not understand- 
ing a word, and bade her slaves stay with him. 

Last man in the column was Leon, brave gentleman, 
good captain. With his horsemen, he closed upon the 
artillery. 

“ Friend,” he said to Mesa, “ the devil is in the night. 
As thou art familiar vdth wars as Father Olmedo with mass, 
how readest thou the noise we hear 1 ” 

The veteran, walking at the moment between two of his 
guns, replied, — 

Interpret we each for himself, Sehor. I am ready to 
fight. See ! ” 


569 


LA NOCHE TRISTE. 


And drawing liis cloak aside, he showed the ruddy spark 
of a lighted match. 

“ As thou seest, I am ready ; yet ” — and he lowered his 
voice — “ I shame not to confess that I wish we were well 
out of this.” « 

“ Good soldier art thou ! ” said Leon. “ I will stay with 
thee. A la Madre todos ! ” 

The exclamation had scarcely passed his lips when to their 
left and front the darkness became peopled with men in 
white, rushing upon them, and shouting, “ Tip, up, Tlateloco ! 
0, 0 luiloneSf luilones / ” * 

“ Turn thy guns quickly. Mesa, or we are lost ! ” cried 
Leon j and to his comrades, Swords and axes ! Upon them, 
gentlemen ! Santiago, Santiago ! ” 

The veteran as j^romptly resolved himself into action. A 
word to his men, — then he caught a wheel with one hand, 
and swung the carriage round, and applied the match. 
The gun failed fire, but up sprang a hissing flame, and in 
its lurid light out came all the scene about: the infidels 
pouring into the street, the Tlascalans and many Spaniards 
in flight, Leon charging almost alone, and right amongst 
the guns a fighting man, — by his armor, half pagan, half 
Christian, — all this Mesa saw, and more, — that the 
slaves had abandoned the ropes, and that of the gunners the 
few who stood their ground were struggling for life hand to 
hand ; stiU more, that the gun he was standing by looked 
point-blank into the densest ranks of the foe. Never word 
spoke he ; repriming the piece, he applied the match again. 
The report shook the earth, and was heard and recognized by 
Cortes out on the causeway ; but it was the veteran’s last 
shot. To his side sprang the ’tzin : in his ear a war-cry, 
on his morion a blow, and under the gun he died. When 
Duty loses a good servant Honor gains a hero, 

* Bernal Diaz, Hist, de la Conq. 


570 


THE FAIR GOD. 


The fight — or, rather, the struggle of the few against the 
many — went on. The ’tzin led his people boldly, and they 
failed him not. Leon drew together all he could of Chris- 
tians and Tlascalans ; then, as game to be taken at leisure, 
his enemy left him. Soon the fugitives foljowing Alvarado 
heard a strange cry coming swiftly after them, 0, 0 luil- 
ones ! 0 luilones ! ” 

And through the rain and the night, doubly dark in the 
canals, Hualpa sped to the open lake, followed by nine 
canoes, fashioned for speed, each driven by six oarsmen, and 
carrying four warriors ; so there were with him nine and 
thirty chosen men, with linked mail under their white tunics, 
and swords of steel on their long lances, — arms and armor 
of the Christians. 

Off the causeway, beyond the first canal, he waited, until 
the great flotillas, answering his signal, closed in on the right 
hand and left ; then he started for the canal, chafing at the 
delay of his vessels. 

“ Faster, faster, my men ! ” he said aloud ; then to him- 
self, “ I^ow will I wrest her from the robber, and after that 
she will give me her love again. 0 happy, happy hour ! ” 

He sought the canal, thinking, doubtless, that the Chris- 
tians would find it impassable, and that in their front, as the 
place of safety, they would most certainly place Henetzin. 
There, into the press he drove. 

“ IN’ot here ! Back, my men ! ” he shouted. 

The chasm was bridged. 

And marvelling at the skill of the strangers, which over- 
came difficulties as by magic, and trembling lest they should 
escape and his love be lost to him after all, he turned his 
canoe, — if possible, to be the first at the next canal. Others 
of his people were going in the same direction, but he oub 
stript them. 

“ Faster, faster ! ” he cried ; and the paddles threshed the 


LA NOCHE TRISTE. 


571 


water, — wings of the lake-birds not more light and free. 
Into the causeway he bent, so close as to hear the tramp of 
horses ; sometimes shading his eyes against the rain, and 
looking up, he saw the fugitives, black against the clouds, — 
strangers and Tlascalans, — plumes of men, but never scarf 
of woman. 

Very soon the people on the causeway heard his caU to 
the boatmen, and the plash of the paddles, and they quick- 
ened their pace. 

“ Adelante ! adelante ! ” cried Sandoval, and forward 
dashed the cavaliers. 

“ 0 my men, land us at the canal before the strangers 
come up, and in my palace at ease you shall eat and drink 
all your lives ! Faster, faster ! ” 

So Hualpa urged his rowers, and in their sinewy hands 
the oaken blades bent like bows. 

Behind dropped the footmen, — even the Tlascalans ; and 
weak from hunger and wounds, behind dropped some of the 
horses. Shook the causeway, foamed the water. A hun- 
dred yards, — and the coursers of the lake were swift as the 
coursers of the land ; half a mile, — and the appeal of the in- 
fidel and the cheering cry of the Christian went down the 
wind on the same gale. At last, as Hualpa leaped from his 
boat, Sandoval checked his horse, — both at the canal. 

Up the dike the infidels clambered to the attack. And 
there was clang of swords and axes, and rearing and plung- 
ing of steeds ; then the voice of the good captain, — 

“ God’s curse upon them ! They have our shields ! ” 

A horse, pierced to the heart, leaped blindly down the 
bank, and from the water rose the rider’s imploration : 
‘^Help, help, comrades! For the love of Christ, help! I 
am drowning ! ” 

Again Sandoval, — 

CuidadOy — beware ! They have our swords on their 


672 


THE FAIR GOD. 


lances ! ” Then, observing his horsemen giving ground, 
“ Stand fast ! Unless we hold the canal for Magarino, all is 
lost ! Upon them ! Santiago, Santiago I ” 

A rally and a charge ! The sword-blades did their work 
well ; horses, wounded to death or dead, began to cumber the 
causeway, and the groans and prayers of their masters caught 
under them were horrible to hear. Once, with laughter and 
taunting jests, the infidels retreated down the slope ; and 
once, some of them, close pressed, leaped into the canal 
The lake received them kindly with all their harness 
on they swam ashore. Never was Sandoval so distressed. 

Meantime, the footmen began to come up ; and as they 
were intolerably galled by the enemy, who sometimes landed 
and engaged them hand to hand, they clamored for those 
in front to move on. “ Magarino ! The bridge, the 
bridge ! Forward ! ” With such cries, they pressed upon 
the horsemen, and reduced the space left them for action. 

At length Sandoval shouted, — 

“ Ola, all who can swim ! Follow me ! ” 

And riding down the bank, he spurred into the water. 
Many were bold enough to follow ; and though some were 
drowned, the greater part made the passage safely. Then 
the cowering, shivering mass left behind without a leader, 
became an easy prey; and steadily, pitilessly, silently, 
Hualpa and his people fought, — silently, for all the time he 
was listening for a woman’s voice, the voice of his beloved. 

And now, fast riding, Cortes came to the second canal, 
with some cavaliers whom he rallied on the way ; behind 
him, as if in pursuit, so madly did they run, followed all of 
the central division who succeeded in passing the bridge. 
The sick and wounded, the prisoners, even king Cacama 
and the women, abandoned by their escort, were slain and 
captured, — all save Marina, rescued by some Tlascalans, 
and a Spanish Amazon, who defended herself with sword 
and shield. 


LA NOCHE TRISTE. 


573 


At points along the line of flight the infidels intercepted 
the fugitives. INIany terrible combats ensued. AVhen the 
Christians kept in groups, as did most of the veterans, they 
generally beat off the assailants. The loss fell chiefly upon 
the Tlascalans, the cross-bowmen, and arquebusiers, whose 
arms the rain had ruined, and the recruits of Narvaez, who, 
weighted down by their treasure and overcome by fear, ran 
blindly along, and fell almost without resistance. 

One great effort Cortes made at the canal to restore 
order before the mob could come up. 

“ God help us ! ” he cried at last to the gentlemen with 
him. “ Here are bowmen and gunners without arms, and 
horsemen without room to charge. Nothing now but to save 
ourselves ! And that we may not do, if we wait. Let us 
follow Sandoval. Hearken to the howling ! How fast they 
come ! And by my conscience, with them they bring the 
lake alive with fiends ! Olmedo, thou with me ! Come, 
Morla, Avila, Olid ! Come, all who care for life ! ” 

And through the mUe'e they pushed, through the murder- 
ous lancers, down the bank, — Cortes first, and good 
knights on the right and left of the father. There was 
plunging and floundering of horses, and yells of infidels, and 
the sound of deadly blows, and from the swimmers shrieks 
for help, now to comrades, now to saints, now to Christ. 

“ Ho, Sandoval, right glad am I to find thee ! ” said 
Cortes, on the further side of the canal. “Why waitest 
thour’ 

“ For the coming of the bridge, Seiior.” 

“ Bastante ! Take what thou hast, and gallop to the next 
canal. I will do thy part here.” 

And dripping from the plunge in the lake, chilled by the 
calamity more than by the chill wind, and careless of the 
stones and arrows that hurtled about him, he faced the fight, 
and waited, saying simply, — “0 good Mother, hasten 
Magarino ! ” 


574 


THE FAIR GOD. 


Never prayer more hearty, never prayer more needed ! 
For the central division had passed, and Alvarado had come 
and gone, and down the causeway to the city no voice of 
Christian was to be heard ; at hand, only the infidels with 
their melancholy cry, of unknown import, “ 0, 0 luilooies ! 
0, 0 luilones ! ” Then Magarino summoned his Tlascalans | 
and Christians to raise the bridge. How many of them had 
died the death of the faithful, how many had basely fled, he 
knew not ; the darkness covered the glory as well as the 
shame. To work he went. And what sickness of the spirit, 
what agony ineflahle seized him ! The platform was too 
fast fixed in the rocks to be moved ! Awhile he fought, 
awhile toiled, awhile prayed ; all without avail. In his 
ears lingered the parting words of Cortes, and he stayed 
though his hope was gone. Every moment added to the 
dead and wounded around him, yet he stayed. He was 
the dependence of the army : how could he leave the 
bridge ? His men deserted him ; at last he was almost 
alone ; before him was a warrior whose shield when struck 
gave back the ring of iron, and whose blows came with the 
weight of iron ; while around closer and closer circled the 
white uniforms of the infidels ; then he cried, — 

“ God’s curse upon the bridge ! What mortals can, my 
men, we have done to save it ; enough now, if we save our- 
selves ! ” 

And drawn by the great law, supreme in times of such 
peril, they came together, and retired across the bridge. 

Then rose the cry, “ Todo es per dido ! All is lost ! The 
bridge cannot be raised ! ” And along the causeway from 
mouth to mouth the warning flew, of such dolorous effect 
as not merely to unman all who heard it, but to take from 
them the instincts to which life so painfully intrusts itself 
when there is no judgment left. Those defending them- 
selves quitted fighting, and turned to fly ; except the gold, 


LA NOCHE TRISTE. 


575 


which they clutched all the closer, many flung away every- 
thing that impeded them, even the arquebuses, so precious 
in Cortes’ eyes ; guns dragged safely so far were rolled into 
the lake or left on the road ; the horses caught the con- 
tagion, and, becoming unmanageable, ran madly upon the 
footmen. 

When the cry, outflying the fugitives with whom it began, 
reached the thousands at the second canal, it had somewhere 
borrowed a phrase yet more demoralizing. “The bridge 
cannot be raised ! All is lost ! Save yourselves^ save your- 
selves /” Such was its form there. And about that time, as 
ill-fortune ordered, the infidels had gathered around the fatal 
place until, by their yells and missiles there seemed to be 
myriads of them. Along the causeway their canoes lay 
wedged in, like a great raft ; and bolder grown, they flung 
themselves bodily on the unfortunates, and strove to carry 
them off alive. Enough if they dragged them down the 
slope, — innumerable hands were ready at the water’s edge to 
take them speedily beyond rescue. Momentarily, also, the 
yell of the fighting men of Tenochtitlan, surging from the 
city under the ’tzin, drew nearer and nearer, driving the 
rear upon the front, already on the verge of the canal 
with barely room for defense against Hualpa and his 
people. All that held the sufferers passive, all that gave 
them endurance, the virtue rarer and greater than patience, 
was the hope of the coming of Magarino ; and the an- 
nouncement, at last, that the bridge could not be raised, 
was as the voice of doom over their heads. Instantly, 
they saw death behind them, and life nowhere but for- 
ward, — so always with panic. An impulse moved them, 
— they rushed on, they pushed each with the might 
of despair. “ Save yourselves, save yourselves ! ” they 
screamed, at the same time no one thought of any but 
himself. 


576 


THE FAIR GOD. 


To make the scene clear to the reader, he should re- 
member that the causeway was but eight yards across its 
superior slope ; while the canal, about as wide, and crossing 
at right angles, was on both sides walled with dressed ma- 
sonry to the height, probably, of twelve feet, with water at 
least deep enough to drown a horse. Ordinarily, the peril 
of the passage would have been scorned by a stout swim- 
mer ; but, alas ! such were not all wlio must make the at- 
tempt now. 

The first victims of the movement I have described were 
those in the front fighting Hualpa. ISTo time for preparation : 
with shields on their arms, if footmen, on their horses, if 
riders, — a struggle on the verge, a cry for pity, a despairing 
shriek, and into the yawning chasm they were plunged ; nor 
had the water time to close above their heads before as 
many others were dashed in upon them. 

Cortes, on the further side, could only hear what took 
place in the canal, for the darkness hid it from view ; yet 
he knew that at his feet was a struggle for life impossible to 
be imagined except as something that might happen in the 
heart of the vortex left by a ship foundering at sea. The 
screams, groans, prayers, and execrations of men ; the neigh- 
ing, snorting, and plunging of horses ; the bubbling, hiss- 
ing, and plashing of water ; the VTithing and fighting, — 
a wretch a moment risen, in a moment gone, his death-cry 
half uttered ; the rolling of the mass, or rather its impul- 
sion onward, which, horrible to think, might be the fast 
filling up of the passage ; now and then a piteous appeal for 
help under the wall, reached at last (and by what mighty 
exertion!) only to mock the hopes of the swimmers, — all this 
Cortes heard, and more. No need of light to make the 
scene visible ; no need to see the dying and the drowning, 
or the last look of eyes fixed upon him as they went down’ 
a look as likely to be a curse as a prayer ! If never before or 


LA XOCHE TRISTE. 


577 


never again, his courage failed him then ; and turning his 
horse he fled the place, shouting as he went, — 

“ Todo es perdido / all is lost ! Save yourselves, save 
yourselves ! ” 

And in his absence the horror continued, — continued 
until the canal from side to side was filled with the bodies 
of men and horses, blent with arms and ensigns, baggage, 
and guns, and gun-carriages, and munitions in boxes and 
carts, — the rich plunder of the empire, royal fifth as well as 
humbler dividend, — and all the paraphernalia of armies, 
inlidel and Christian ; filled, until most of those who es- 
caped clambered over the warm and writhing heap of what 
had so lately been friends and comrades. And the gods of 
the heathen were not forgotten by their children ; for suf- 
ferers there were who, snatching at hands offered in help, 
were dragged into canoes, and never heard of more. Tears 
and prayers and the saving grace of the Holy Mother and 
Son for them ! Better death in the canal, however dread- 
ful, than death in the temples, — for the soul’s rest, better ! 

Slowly along the causeway, meantime, Alvarado toiled 
with the rear-guard. Very early he had given up Leon 
and Mesa, and all with them, as lost. And to say truth, 
little time had he to think of them ; for now, indeed, he 
found the duties of lover and soldier difficult as they had 
been pleasant. Gay of spirit, boastful but not less generous 
and brave, skilful and reckless, he was of the kind to attract 
and dazzle the adventurers with whom he had cast his lot ; 
and now they 'were ready to do his bidding, and equally 
ready to share his fate, life or death. ^ Of them he consti- 
tuted a body-guard for Henetzin. Eough riders were they, 
yet around her they formed, more careful of her than 
themselves ; against them rattled and rang the stones and 
arrows ; against them dashed the infidels landed from their 
canoes ; sometimes a cry announced a hurt, sometimes a fall 
25 KK 


578 


THE FAIR GOD. 


announced a death ; but never hand of foe or flying mis- 
sile reached the curtained carriage in which rode the little 
princess. 

iN'or can it be said that Alvarado, so careful as lover, failed 
his duty as captain. Sometimes at the rear, facing the ’tzin } 
sometimes, with a laugh or a kiss of the hand, by the 
palanquin ; and always his cry, blasphemous yet cheerful, 
“ Viva d Christo ! Viva Santa Cruz ! Santiago^ Santiago ! ” 
So from mistress and men he kept oil* the evil bird Fear. 
The stout mare Bradamante gave him most concern ; she 
obeyed willingly, — indeed, seemed better when in action ; 
yet was restless and uneasy, and tossed her head, and — un- 
pardonable as a habit in the horse of a soldier — cried for 
company. 

“ So-a, girl ! ” he would say, as never doubting that she 
understood him. “ What seest thou that I do not % or is 
it what thou hearest h Fear ! If one did but say to me that 
thou wert cowardly, better for him that he spoke ill of my 
mother ! But here they come again ! Upon them now ! 
Upon them, sweetheart ! Viva a Christo ! Viva la Santa 
Cruz I ” 

And so, fighting, he crossed the bridge ; and stiU all went 
well with him. Out of the way he chased the foe ; on the 
flanks they were beaten off ; only at the rear were they 
troublesome, for there the Tzin led the pursuit. 

Finally, the rear-guard closed upon the central division, 
which, having reached the second canal, stood, in what con- 
dition we have seen, waiting for Magarino. Then Alvarado 
hurried to the palanquin; and while there, now checking 
Bradamante, whose uneasiness seemed to increase as they 
advanced, now cheering IS'enetzin, he heard the fatal cry 
proclaiming the loss of the bridge. On his lips the jest 
faded, in his heart the blood stood still. A hundred voices 
took up the cry, and there was hurry and alarm around him, 


LA NOCHE TRISTE. 


579 


and he felt the first pressure of the impulsive movement 
forward. The warning was not lost : — 

“ Ola^ my friends ! ” he said, at once aroused, “ Hell’s 
door of brass hath been opened, and the devds are loose ! 
Keep we together — ” 

As he spoke the pressure strengthened, and the crowd 
yelled “ Todo es perdido ! Save yourselves ! ” 

Up went his visor, out rang his voice in fierce appeal, — 

“ Together let us bide, gentlemen. We are Spaniards, and 
in our saddles, with swords and shields. The foe are the 
dogs who have bayed us so to their cost for days and weeks. 
On the right and left, as ye are ! Eemember, the woman we 
have here is a Christian ; she hath broken the bread and 
drunken the wine ; her God is our God ; and if we abandon 
her, may he abandon us ! ” 

Kot a rider left his place. The division went to pieces, 
and rushed forward, sweeping all before it except the palan- 
quin ; as a boat in a current, that floated on, — fierce the 
current, yet placid the motion of the boat. And nestled 
warm within, Kenetzin heard the tumult as something terri- 
ble afar off. 

And all the time Hualpa kept the fight by the canal. 
Hours passed. The dead covered the slopes of the causeway ; 
on the top they lay in heaps ; the canal choked with them ; 
still the stream of enemies poured on roaring and fighting. 
Over the horrible bridge he saw some Tlascalans carry two 
women, — neither of them Kenetzin. Another woman came 
up and crossed, but she had sword and shield, and used 
them, shrilly shouting the war-cries of the strangers. Out 
towards the land the battle followed the fugitives, — beyond 
the third canal even, — and everywhere victory ! Surely, 
the Aztecan gods had vindicated themselves ; and for the 
’tzin there was glory immeasurable. But where was Kenet- 
zin ? where the hated Tonatiah 1 Why came they not 1 


580 


THE FAIR GOD. 


In the intervals of the slaughter he began to be shaken by 
visions of the laughing lips and dimpled cheeks of the loved 
face out in the rain crushed by a hoof or a wheel. At other 
times, when the awful chorus of the struggle swelled loudest, 
he fancied he heard her voice in agony of fear and pain. 
Almost he regretted not having sought her, instead of wait- 
ing as he had. 

J^ear morning from the causeway toward the city he heard 
two cries, — ^^Al-a-lala I ” one, “ Viva d Christo ! ” the other. 
Friend most loved, foe most hated, woman most adored ! 
How good the gods were to send them ! His spirit rose, all 
its strength returned. 

Of his warriors, six were with the slain; the others he 
called together, and said, — 

“ The ’tzin comes, and the Tonatiah. How, 0 my friends, T 
claim your service. But forget not, I charge you, forget not 
her of wdiom I spoke. Harm her not. Be ready to follow me.” 

He waited until the guardians of the palanquin were close 
by, — until he heard their horses’ tread; then he shouted, 
“ How, 0 my countrymen ! Be the ’tzin’s cry our cry ! 
Follow me. Al-a-lala, al-a-lala ! ” 

The rough riders faced the attack, thinking it a repetition 
of others they had lightly turned aside on the way ; but 
when their weapons glanced from iron-faced shields, and they 
recognized the thrust of steel ; when their horses shrunk 
from the contact or staggered with mortal hurts, and some 
of them fell down dying, then they gave way to a torrent of 
exclamations so seasoned with holy names that they could 
be as well taken for prayers as curses. Surprised, dismayed, 
retreating, — with scarce room for defence and none for 
attack, still they struggled to maintain themselves. Sharp 
the clangor of axes on shields, merciless the thrust of the 
blades, — cry answered cry. Death to the horse, if he but 
reared ; to the rider death, if his horse but stumbled. Hever- 


LA NOCHE TRISTE. 


581 


theless, step by step tlie patient Indian lover approached the 
palanquin. Then that which had been as a living wall 
around the girl was broken. One of her slaves fell down, 
struck by a stone. Her scream, though shrill with sudden 
fear, was faint amid the discordances of storm and fight ; 
yet two of the combatants heard it, and rushed to the res- 
cue. And now Hualpa’s hand was on the fallen carriage 
— happy moment ! “ Viva d Christo ! Santiago, Santi 

ago ! ” thundered Alvarado. The exultant infidel looked 
up : right over him, hiding the leaden sky, — a dark im- 
pending danger, — reared Bradamante. He thrust quickly, 
and the blade on the lance was true ; with a cry, in its 
excess of agony almost human, the mare reared, fell back, 
and died. As she fell, one foot, heavy with its silver shoe, 
struck him to the ground ; and would that were all ! 

“ Ola, comrades ! ” cried Alvarado, upon his feet again, to 
some horsemen dismounted like himself. “ Look ! the girl 
is dying ! Help me ! as ye hope for life, stay and help 
me ! ” 

They laid hold of the mare, and rolled her away. The 
morning light rested upon the place feebly, as if afraid of its 
own revelations. On the causeway, in the lake, in the canal, 
were many horrors to melt a heart of stone ; one fixed Alva- 
rado’s gaze, — 

Dead ! she is dead ! ” he said, falling upon his knees, 
and covering his eyes with his hands, “ 0 mother of Christ ! 
What have I done that this should befall me % ” 

Under the palanquin, — its roof of aromatic cedar, thin as 
tortoise shell, and its frame of bamboo, light as the cane of 
the maize, all a heap of fragments now, — under the wreck 
lay Henetzin. About her head the blue curtains of the car- 
riage were wrapped in accidental folds, making the pallor of 
the face more pallid ; the lips so given to laughter were 
dark with flowing blood ; and the eyes had looked their 


582 


THE FAIR GOD. 


love the last time ; one little hand rested palm upward upon 
the head of a dead warrior, and in it shone the iron cross of 
Christ. Bradamante had crushed her to death ! And this, 
the crowning horror of the melancholy night, was what the 
good mare saw on the way that her master did not, — so the 
master ever after believed. 

The pain of grief was new to the good captain ; while yet it 
so overcame him, a man laid a hand roughly on his shoulder, 
and said, — 

“ Look thou, Sehor ! She is in Paradise, while of those 
who, at thy call, stayed to help thee save her but seven are 
left. If not thyself, up and help us ! ” 

The justice of the rude appeal aroused him, and he retook 
his sword and shield, and joined in the fight, — eight 
against the many. About them closed the lancers ; facing 
whom one by one the brave men died, until only Alvarado 
remained. Over the clashing of arms then rang the ’tzin’s 
voice, — 

“ It is the Tonatiah ! Take him, O my children, but harm 
him not ; his life belongs to the gods ! ” 

Fortunately for Alvarado a swell of Christian war-cries 
and the beat of galloping horses came, about the same time, 
from the further side of the canal to distract the attention 
of his foemen. Immediately Cortes appeared, with San- 
doval, Morla, Avila, and others, — brave gentlemen come 
back from the land, whi(L they had safely gained, to save 
whom they might of the rear-guard. At the dread passage 
all of them drew rein except Morla ; down the slope of the dyke 
he rode, and spurring into the lake, through the canoes and 
floating debris, he headed to save his friend. Useless the 
gallantry ! The assault upon Alvarado had ceased, — with 
what purpose he knew. Never should they take him alive ! 
Hualpa’s lance, of great length, was lying at his feet. Sud- 
denly, casting away his sword and shield, he snatched up 


LA NOCHE TRISTE. 


583 


liis enemy’s weapon, broke the ring that girdled him, ran to 
the edge of the canal, and vaulted in air. Loud the cry of 
the Christians, louder that of the infidels ! An instant he 
seemed to halt in his flight ; an instant more, and his 
famous feat was performed, — the chasm was cleared, and he 
stood amongst his people saved. 

Alas for Morla ! An infidel sprang down the dike, and 
by running and leaping from canoe to canoe overtook him 
while in the lake. 

“ Sword and shield, Seiior Francisco ! Sword and shield ! 
Look ! The foe is upon thee ! ” 

So he was warned ; but quick the action. First, a blow 
with a Christian axe : down sank the horse ; then a blow 
upon the helmet, and the wave that swallowed the steed re- 
ceived the rider also. 

“ Al-a-lala ! ” shouted the victor. 

“ The ’tzin, the ’tzin ! ” answered his people ; and forward 
they sprang, over the canoes, over the bridge of the dead, — 
forward to get at their hated enemies again. 

“Welcome art thou!” said Cortes to Alvarado. “Wel- 
come as from the grave, whither Morla — God rest his soul ! 
— hath gone. Where is Leon ? ” 

“ With Morla,” answered the captain. 

“ And Mesa 1 ” 

“ Nay, Senor Hernan, if thou stayest here for any of the 
rear-guard, know that I am the last of them.” 

“ Bastante ! Hear ye, gentlemen ? ” said Cortes. “ Our 
duty is done. Let us to the land again. Here is my foot, 
here my hand : mount, captain, and quickly I ” 

Alvarado took the seat offered behind Cortes, and the 
party set out in retreat again. Closely, across the third 
canal, along the causeway to the village of Popotla, the ’tzin 
kept the pursuit. From the village, and from Tlacopan the 
city, he drove the bleeding and bewildered fugitives. At 


584 - 


THE FAIR GOD. 


last they took possession of a temple, from whicli, as from 
a fortress, they successfully defended themselves. Then the - 
’tzin gave over, and returned to the capital. 

And his return was as the savior of his country, — the 
victorious companies behind him, the great flotillas on his 
right and left, and the clouds overhead rent by the sounding 
of conchs and tambours and the singing and shouting of the 
proud and happy people. * 

Fast throbbed his. heart, for now he knew, if the crown 
were not indeed his, its prestige and power were ; and 
amidst fast-coming schemes for the restoration of the empire, 
he thought of the noble Tula, and then' — he halted sud- 
denly : — 

“ Where is the lord Hualpa ? ” he asked. 

“ At the second canal,” answered a cacique. 

“ And he is — ” 

“ Dead ! ” 

The proud head drooped, and the hero forgot his greatness 
and his dreams ; he was the loving friend again, and as such, 
sorrowing and silent, repassed the second canal, and stood 
upon the causeway beyond. And the people, with quick 
understanding of what he sought, made way for him. Over 
the wrecks of the battle, — sword and shield, helm and 
breastplate, men and horses, — he walked to where the lover 
and his beloved lay. 

At sight of her face, more childlike and beautiful than 
ever, memory brought to him the sad look, the low voice, 
and the last words of Hualpa, — If I come not with the 
rising sun to-morrow, Nenetzin can tell you my story,” — 
such were the words. The iron cross was yet in her hand, 
and the hand yet rested on the head of a warrior lying near. 
The Tzin stooped, and turned the dead man over, and lo ! 
the lord Hualpa. From one to the other the princely mourner 
looked ; a mist, not of the lake or the cloud, rose and hid 


LA NOCHE TRISTE. 


585 


them from his view ; he turned aw'ay, — she had told him all 
the story. 

In a canoe, side by side, the two victims were borne to the 
city, never to be s(jparated. At Chapultepec they were laid 
in the same tomb ; so that one day the dust of the hunter, 
with that of kings, may feed the grass and color the flowers 
of the royal hill. 

He had found his fortune ! 

Here the chronicles of the learned Don Fernando abruptly 
terminate. For the satisfaction of the reader, a profes- 
sional story-teller would no doubt have devoted several 
pages to the careers of some of the characters whom he 
leaves surviving the catastrophe. The translator is not dis' 
posed to think his author less courteous than literators gen- 
erally ; on the contrary, the books abound with evidences of 
the tender regard he had for those who might chance to 
occupy themselves with l)is pages ; consequently, there must 
have been a reason for the apparent neglect in question. 

If the worthy gentleman were alive, and the objection 
made to him in person, he would most likely have replied : 
“ Gentle critic, what you take for neglect was but a compli- 
ment to your intelligence. The characters with which I 
dealt were for the most part furnished me by history. The 
few of my own creation were exclusively heathen, and of 
them, except the lord Maxtla and Xoli, the Chalcan, dis- 
position is made in one part or another of the story. The 
two-survi vors named, it is to be supposed, were submerged in 
the ruin that fell upon the country after the conquest was 
finally completed. The other personages being real, for per- 
fect satisfaction as to them, permit me, with the profoundest 
respect, to refer you to your histories again.” 

2 . 5 * 


586 


THE FAIR GOD. 



The translator has nothing to add to the explanation ex- 
cept brief mention that the king Cuitlahua’s reign lasted 
but two months in all. The small-pox, which desolated the 
city and valley, and contributed, more than any other cause, 
to the ultimate overthrow of the empire, sent him to the tombs 
of Chapultepec. Guatamozin then took the vacant throne, 
and as king exemplified still further the qualities which had 
made him already the idol of his people and the hero of his 
race. Some time also, but whether before or after liis corona- 
tion we are not told, he married the noble Tula, — an event 
which will leave the readers of the excellent Don Fernando 
in doubt whether Mualox, the paba, was not more prophet 
than monomaniac. 




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